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popular Stories. 

By AMY BROOKS. 

Each beautifully illustrated by the Author. 

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RANDY’S SUMMER. RANDY’S GOOD TIMES. 

RANDY’S WINTER. RANDY’S LUCK. 

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“How CAN THEY DANCE SO PRETTILY?” SHE SAID. — Page 5 




prue Boothe 


PRUE’S MERRY TIMES 


BY 

AMY BEOOKS 

H 

Author of “Dorothy Dainty Series,” “The Randy Books,” 
“A Jolly Cat Tale” and “The Prue Books” 


ILLUSTRATED BY THE AUTHOR 



BOSTON 

LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO. 


V 


> 



Published, August, 1911 


Copyright, 1911, By LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO. 


All Rights Reserved 


Prue’s Merry Times 



Nortoooli 3?ttss 
Berwick & Smith Co. 
Norwood, Mass., U. S A. 




CONTENTS 


CHAPTER 

I. 

Fun in Prospect . 

PAGE 

1 

II. 

Naming the Kitten . 

.21 

III. 

School Begins 

. . . . 40 

IV. 

The Dancing School . 

. . . . 60 

V. 

Johnny Tries to Earn 

. . . . 79 

VI. 

Hi Babson .... 

.... 98 

VII. 

Jim Makes a Call 

. . . . 117 

VIII. 

What Agatha Heard . 

. . . . 137 

IX. 

The Little Traveller 

. . . . 157 

X. 

The Visit .... 

. . . . 176 

XI. 

Return to the Village . 

. 197 

XII. 

The Dancing Party . 

. . . . 217 



ILLUSTRATIONS 


How CAN THEY DANCE SO PRETTILY ? {Page 2 ) 

Frontispiece 

FACING PAGE 

You AND THE KITTEN ARE TO HAVE A PARTY, TaBBY 

DEAR 24 

Why, he^s bought a new knife! said Sophy . 82 

“ DoN^T you tell if I TELL YOU . 144 

Oh, what a fine time she^s having! sighed 
Hitty 182 


^'Oh, Johnny, how you tease! said Prue . 


. 220 


N 


PRUE’S MERRY TIMES 

OHAPTEE I 

FUN IN PROSPECT 

r I ^HBRE was great excitement in the vil- 
lage. The wild flowers nodded their 
heads as if they were whispering about 
something that was too great a secret to be 
shared with the breeze. 

The leaves rustled overhead as if they, 
too, were talking about it. There was not a 
child in the village who had not heard the 
wonderful bit of news, and of them all, none 
was more wild with delight than little Prue 
Weston. 

The moment she had heard it, she had 
hastened to tell her little neighbors, Hitty, 
1 


2 


PRUE’S MERRY TIMES 


Sophy, and Johnny Buffum, and ever since 
that day, they had been “ practising.” 

She had found her playmates in the midst 
of a game of “ Hop-scotch.” 

“ Oh, Hitty, Sophy, Johnny, listen! 
We’re to have a fine dancing school, right 
here in town! Just think of it, and every 
one is going. It’s only to be ten cents a 
lesson for children, Saturday afternoons, 
and the big boys and girls will have their 
lessons in the evening.” 

Hitty and Sophy were as excited as Prue 
could wish, and at once began to ask more 
questions than could be answered in a 
week. 

“ Where will it be? ” 

“ How soon will the lessons begin? 

“ Who’s going? ” 

“ Who’ll be the teacher? ” 

These questions and many more Hitty 


FUN IN PROSPECT 


3 


and Sophy asked, and Prue answered them 
as well as she could, but while replying to 
their queries, she could not help seeing that 
Johnny was very quiet, and seemed little 
interested. 

“ Why, Johnny,” said Prue, when Hitty 
ceased questioning to regain her breath, 
“ aren’t you glad we’re to learn to dance? ” 

“ It’s fine ’nough to have the school,” 
said Johnny, “ but I’m ’fraid I couldn’t 
learn.” 

“ Oh, yes you could,” said Prue, ” and 
my Randy has promised to show us some 
of the steps, and teach us ever so much be- 
fore the school begins. You can come over 
to Randy’s house with Hitty, and Sophy, 
and me, and you’ll see how you’ll learn 
when Randy teaches us.” 

‘‘I’d love ter dance, but I’m ’fraid I 
couldn’t do it graceful,” objected Johnny. 


PRUE’S MERRY TIMES 


“ Gracefully,’'' corrected Prue. “ Well, 
my Eandy dances beautifully; she learned 
in Boston, where they know everything,’’’ 
she continued, “ and we’ll learn all we can, 
and when we go to take our first lesson, 
we’ll be able to show the teacher that we 
know something! ” 

True to her promise, Randy taught her 
four little pupils, and derived as much 
amusement from the lessons as the children 
did. 

Prue was an apt pupil, Hitty did fairly 
well, but Sophy and Johnny were surely 
never intended for dancers. 

You must practise what I have taught 
you,” Randy said, “ and you four little 
friends will be surprised to see how much 
improvement there will be.” 

Hitty and Sophy seemed able to think of 
nothing but the steps that Randy had 


FUN IN PROSPECT 


5 


taught them, and early and late they prac- 
tised, and with Prue, who was equally in- 
terested, they formed a merry trio. Sophy 
watched the others eagerly. 

“ How can they dance so prettily? ” she 
said. 

Prue and Hitty would try to dance to- 
gether, then Prue and Sophy, and then 
Hitty and Sophy, but Johnny preferred to 
practise alone. 

Sophy’s efforts were exceedingl}' clumsy, 
but she laughed at her blunders and tried 
again and again, not caring a bit if Hitty 
laughed, too. 

It was Johnny who could not bear their 
laughter, and after once being a target for 
their merriment, he resolved to practise 
alone. It was in vain that they insisted 
that he could not dance without a partner. 

Even Prue’s pleading was unavailing, 


6 


PRUE’S MERRY TIMES 


and Johnny ran off to the bam to struggle 
with his awkwardness, and to strive to train 
his clumsy little feet to dance with elegance 
and grace. 

When he reached the bam, he ran to the 
middle of the floor, and tried to remember 
how Randy had said the steps should be 
taken. 

“ That polka was pretty when she done 
it,” he muttered, ‘‘ but which foot does a 
fellow start with? ” 

There was no sound in reply, but Johnny 
had not expected an answer, and he again 
tried to remember what Randy had said, 
and endeavored to polka. 

“ I b’lieve I’ve forgotten every word she 
said! ” he declared in disgust. “ I guess 
I’ll see ’f I can bow like she told me to.” 

Alas ! The bowing was no easier than the 
dancing had been. 


FUN IN PROSPECT 


7 


Johnny paused to wipe the perspiration 
from his brow. 

“ Oh, ain^t it hard work? ” he cried. 

He thrust his handkerchief into his 
pocket, tossed back the lock of hair that 
hung over his forehead, and again at- 
tempted to make a very fine bow. 

“ She said: ‘ draw yer heels together, and 
hold yer arms,’ — 0 dear, I’ve forgotten 
what she said to do with yer arms, and any- 
how, my feet are bother enough! ” 

For a few moments he struggled to make 
his feet do his bidding, then his anger broke 
forth. 

“ I never see such feet! ” he cried. 

“ Ef I draw my left foot forward fust, 
my right don’t get there on time, an’ ef I 
draw my right foot forward fust, my left 
foot gets in my way, an’ when I try ter 
draw ’em both forward to oncet, I almost 


8 


PRUE’8 MERRY TIMES 


fall on my nose! Wliat’s a feller ter do, 
that wants ter dance, ef his feet won’t let 
him?” 

While Johnny struggled to do the steps, 
and to make the bow that Randy had 
taught him, the three little girls were doing 
the same thing, only they were together, 
and were laughing merrily over their mis- 
takes. 

They were in earnest, however, and Hitty 
and Sophy watched with delight while Prue 
explained what Randy had said. 

‘‘ Hold your skirts, so,” she was saying, 
“ and then move your feet so, and how! ” 

Daintily she held her skirts, and bowed. 

“ Oh, that’s fine,” said Hitty. 

** Let’s try again,” said Sophy, and again 
they attempted to do as Prue had done. 

“ Why, Hitty! ” cried Sophy, “ when you 
bow you look as if you had a ‘ crick ’ in 


FUN IN PROSPECT 


9 


your back like G-randma Babson has,” and 
she laughed until Hitty was vexed. 

“ Well, how do you look when you bow? ” 
she retorted. 

‘‘ I don’t know, for I can’t see myself,” 
said Sophy, still laughing. 

‘‘It’s lucky you can’t,” said Hitty, 
curtly, “ for you’re a sight! When you 
take hold of your skirts and bow, you look 
as if you had crumbs for the chickens in 
your apron, and was trying ter ketch a 
mouthful.” 

Sophy was good-tempered. 

“We’re both funny enough,” she said, 
“ and after all our practising, I hope ma’ll 
let us go to the dancing school when it be- 
gins.” 

“ Oh, she will,” said Hitty; “ she 
wouldn’t have every one else go, and not 
let us.” 


10 


PBUE^S MERRY TIMES 


It was amusing to hear the comments of 
the children of the neighborhood, and the 
remarks of the older boys and girls were 
almost as droll. 

<< We’re goin’, we be! ” declared Joe 
Butley. 

“ An’ we’ll be star dancers,” cried Job; 
“ you see what we’ll do! ” 

“ Think ye’re some punkins, don’t ye? ” 
said Jim Simpson, who was not at all fond 
of the Butley twins. 

“You will when you see us dance. 
My, but we kin cut capers,” said 
Job. 

“Ye’d think they was ’lectric’ty in our 
feet! ” added Joe. 

“ Where ’d ye learn so much? ” ques- 
tioned Jim, who, while he disliked Joe and 
Job, could not but feel curious as to their 
ability. 


FUN IN PROSPECT 


11 


‘‘ Oil, we ain’t tellin’,” Job replied, with 
fine disregard of grammar. 

“Well, ye’re little chaps,” remarked 
Jim, “so ye won’t make much show, 
whatever ye do. Now, if I do some 
fine steps. I’ll be big ’nough fer folks ter 
see! ” 

“ Ye’ll be big ’nough ter be called 
‘ Fatty,’ ” agreed Joe. 

“ Oh, I’m not fat,” said Jim; “ I’m only 
fair size.” 

“ Ye’re huge! ” declared Job; “ and ye 
needn’t think we little fellers ain’t any- 
body.” 

While Jim Simpson was made a bit un- 
comfortable because of his bulky form, 
Jeremy Gifford was equally miserable be- 
cause of his small stature. Jeremy was 
fifteen, yet he was no taller than the Butley 
boys, and his wiry form and shrewd little 


12 


PRUE’S MERRY TIMES 


face made him seem much smaller than he 
really was. 

“I’m goin’ ter the evening class,” he 
said to Tom Thompson, who was a 
year yoimger than Jeremy, but a head 
taller. 

“ Guess not,’^ Tom said curtly; “ you be- 
long in the children’s class for Saturday 
afternoon.” 

“I’m no small boy. I’ll let ye know! ” 
cried Jeremy; “I’m a whole year older ’n 
you be.” 

“ Ye’re a whole head shorter, and it’s size 
that’ll count! ” Tom retorted. “ The 
teacher’ll sort us out, an’ then you’ll see 
which class you’ll be in.” 

Bob Eushton was puzzled as to where he 
should be placed. He was as young as little 
Johnny Buffum, but he had grown so fast 
during the summer that he believed that he 


FUN IN PROSPECT 


13 


would surely be classed with the big girls 
and boys. 

“ Wbat ever made me grow so fast this 
summer*? ” he said. “I’d rather dance 
with Prue Weston, and Hitty Buftum, and 
anybody their size; and here I’ve gone and 
run up like a bean-pole. The small girls 
will think I’m too big, and the big girls will 
think I’m too small! Was any boy ever in 
such a fix'? ” 

Merilla Burton was absolutely contented. 
She was fourteen, and rather tall, and she 
felt sure that she could not be expected to 
attend any class save that intended for the 
older pupils. 

Phonie Jenks ran over to the BufEum 
house to ask Hitty and Sophy if they were 
going. 

“I’ll hev ter let ’em,” said good Mrs. 
Buffum, “ although Ann and Tommy can’t 


14 


PRUE’8 MERRY TIMES 


see why they can’t go, too. I’ve told them 
ter be good and not fuss about it. Hitty, 
and Sophy, and Johnny can go this year, 
and Ann and Tommy when they’re some 
bigger. I’ve promised ter let them stay 
home and help me make patchwork.” 

“ Will they like to? ” asked Phonie, with 
surprise. 

“ They ain’t what ye’d call ‘ tickled ter 
pieces,’ ” Mrs. Buffum replied, “ but they 
understand how ’tis.” 

“We’ll tell you all about the lesson every 
time we come home,” said Hitty. 

Ann made no reply, but Tommy did. 

“ I guess ye needn’t bother,” he said. 

It was the leader of the village band that 
had sent forth the announcement that he 
intended to fill the very important position 
of dancing teacher to the youth of the vil- 
lage. 


FUN IN PROSPECT 


15 


<< IVe got a fine ear fer music,” lie de- 
clared, “ and my fingers is nimble handling 
the cornet. 

“ Naow, if my ears and my fingers is mu- 
sical, why shouldn’t my toes be musical, and 
if they then why can’t I learn ter dance? 
And if I can learn ter dance, don’t it 
stand ter reason that I can teach what I 
learnt f ” 

No one objected to his statement, or ques- 
tioned his ability. 

His argument was ungrammatical, but it 
was forcible. He had abundant faith in 
himself, and he impressed his friends. 

“ I do’no’ as he’ll be actooally graceful,” 
said old Nate Burnham, “ but he’ll fetch it. 
I’ll bet ye! ” 

“ Fetch what? ” queried a young farmer, 
who happened to be sitting beside Nate in 
Barnes’s store. 


16 


PRUE’8 MERRY TIMES 


Fetch the nimbleness inter them feet of 
his’n/’ snapped Nate. 

“ All yer have ter do ter learn anything 
is ter try, and then keep on trying. He’s 
mastered music, ain’t he? Well, what’s 
harder ’n that? ” 

“ Makin’ both ends meet,” said Joel 
Simpkins, “ and he don’t earn ’nough out’n 
music ter do that.” 

Wal, he does his music with his fingers, 
and says he gits ’bout half a living out’n 
it. Naow, if he kin make his feet earn the 
other half, he’s done the stunt! ” 

Nate looked at the group with an air of 
triumph. 

“Guess that argument beat ye all holler! ” 
he chuckled, and no one cared to reply. 

Through the spring and summer, the lit- 
tle band director had struggled to master 
the art of dancing. 


FUN IN PROSPECT 


17 


He visited the city once each fortnight 
to take a private lesson, and practised 
every day and all day to perfect the bit of 
skill that he had gained. 

“ Ye’re wearing out more shoes than ye 
can afford ter spile,” said his wife one day, 

and I want ye ter quit dancing up in the 
chamber. Ye kin practise in the kitchen, 
but ye must stop a-doin’ it up stairs.” 

“ But I couldn’t hurt that old attic 
floor! ” he said in surprise. 

“ ’Tain’t the floor I’m af eared of,” was 
the quick reply, “ but ye’re bustin’ the ced- 
ing in the settin’-room. Ho feller as hefty 
as you be could jump up and down on the 
attic floor and not smash the ceiling in the 
room below.” 

“ The teacher says I dance very light,” 
said the little man, with an injured air. 

“ Light! ” was the disgusted reply. 


18 


PRUE’S MERRY TIMES 


“ Why, yesterday, when ye actooally got 
going, I thought any minute ye’d come 
through and land plunk in the middle of the 
floor.” 

Why, Statiry, how you talk! ” he cried. 

“ Well, ye made such a racket that Mr. 
Jenks heard ye as he was driving by, and 
stopped ter ask if ye wanted any help. I 
says, ‘ Land, no! Ef James Henry Bowers 
can make aU that racket without help, fer 
massy sakes what would he do if ye helped 
him? ’ 

“ ‘ Guess the house would tumble down 
round yer ears,’ says he, and with that he 
druv on.” 

July and August were torrid. The days 
were scorching, and the nights were not 
much cooler. Every one complained of the 
heat, every one but stout little James 
Henry Bowers. 


FUN IN PROSPECT 


19 


From daylight until dusk he pranced and 
capered, and when September came, he had 
lost no weight, but he had gained much 
ability. 

I’ve got a bright idee! ” he said one 
morning. “ A "fine idee, I tell ye! ’’ 

“ Well? ” his wife said, patiently. 

“I’ll open my dancing school in Octo- 
ber,” he said, “ but next week, when I give 
a band concert at the Four Corners, I’m 
going to ’nounce from the band-stand that 
I’m ready ter teach, and what the terms will 
be, and where we’ll have it.” 

“ My mind’s some relieved,” said Sta- 
tira. “ I ’most expected ter hear ye say ye 
was going ter do a dancing stunt on the 
band-stand, before all them people.” 

He chose to ignore what she had said. 

“ Ye’ll think well of dancing when ye see 
all the money I’ll earn out’n teaching,” he 


20 


PRUE’S MERRY TIMES 


said. “ If I don’t earn a fortune, I’ll get a 
good pile toward it, and when my classes 
is going ye wouldn’t care if I’d cracked two 
ceilings.” 

“I’m sure I hope ye’ll succeed in getting 
good classes,” she said more kindly than 
usual, “ ye’ve worked hard ’nough ter hev 
luck. I do hope ye will. ’ ’ 

She wondered if the youth of their own 
town, and the neighboring villages would 
be able to find enough money with which to 
pay the small fee that her husband had de- 
cided to ask. 

It was not strange that she had become 
very weary of the incessant practising that 
had made the summer all but unbearable. 

Now she wondered if it had been worth 
while. 


CHAPTER n 

NAMING THE KITTEN 

“PHHE sat on the doorstep, with Tabby 
snuggled close beside her, while 
the kitten scampered about on the little 
path. 

She bad been christened by Prue a few 
moments before, and seemed to have lost 
none of her friskiness because of her pon- 
derous name. 

Her soft fur was still wet with the sprin- 
kling that Prue bad given her, but her gay 
spirits were not dampened, and she seemed 
rejoicing in her name. Dahlia Keziab. 

“I’ve named her Dahlia, because. Tabby, 
you know Dahlias are handsome, and her 


21 


PRUE’S MERRY TIMES 


other name is Keziah, because,— oh, because 
it is. I think Dahha Keziah sounds 
grand! ” 

Tabby made no objection. Being a pa- 
tient and rather meek cat, she probably 
would not have complained if httle Prue 
had given the kitten any other outrageous 
name. 

PhUury, the maid of all work, had ex- 
pressed her opinion quite forcibly. 

“ My land! What a name fer the little 
critter! ” she had said. “ I wonder what 
kept ye from calling her Kerosene Oil- 
tank? ” 

“ Well, that does sound fine,” said Prue, 

only kerosene smells horrid, and you 
couldn’t help thinking of it.” 

Well, Dahlias ain’t the sweetest blos- 
soms I ever smelt. They don’t make ye 
think of pinks or mignonette,” said Phi- 


NAMING THE KITTEN 


23 


lury. Then seeing that Prue looked hurt, 
she said: 

“ Naow, Prue, ye mustn’t mind my laugh- 
ing. I hadn’t got used ter that kitten’s 
name, and it seemed odd ter me. I’ll hake 
some cookies, an’ ye kin set yer little tea- 
table, an’ invite Tabby an’ the kitten 
ter the spread. It’ll be a christening 
party.” 

‘‘ Oh, that will be iine! ” cried Prue. 
“ And, Philury, we’ll make the kitten 
drink her milk out of my dolly’s wash- 
bowl.” 

“ I guess she’U drink out’n ’most any- 
thing,” said Philury, “ if there’s ’nough 
cream in it! ” 

She returned to the kitchen to make the 
promised cookies, and Prue looked lovingly 
at Tabby. 

“ You and the kitten are to have a party. 


24 


PRUE’8 MERRY TIMES 


Tabby dear,” she said, ‘‘ and I mean to have 
that baby cat called by her whole name 
whenever any one speaks to her.” 

The spread was a great success. The 
guests enjoyed the treat, and the little 
hostess was very happy. 

To be sure. Tabby forgot her table man- 
ners, if she ever had any, and stretching her 
gray paw across the little doll’s table, 
snatched a big piece of cookie. 

“ Oh, Tahhy! ” cried Prue, and Tabby 
laid her ears back, as if expecting punish- 
ment. 

“ There, there! ” cooed Prue, “ eat your 
cookie. You didn’t know it was naughty 
to just grab things.” 

The kitten climbed up on to the tiny 
table, and began to play with the spoons. 
The little glass spoon-holder tipped over, 
and of course the baby cat was frightened 



“You AND THE KITTEN ARE TO HAVE A PARTY, TaBBY DEAR.” 

Page 23. 


I 


I 




\ 



NAMING THE KITTEN 


25 


by the clatter that it made. Prue picked 
her up and petted her. 

‘‘You mustn’t be scared,” she said; 
“ you really mustn't, Dahha Keziah. Those 
little spoons made a noise, but they didn’t 
hurt you, now did they? ” 

“ Mew! ” squeaked the kitten. 

“ Well, then, sit down here, and I’ll 
fill this dolly’s wash-bowl with milk for 
you.” 

Dahlia Keziah was not quite used to 
dishes, and she promptly put her paw into 
the milk, and then lapped it off. 

“ Oh, you don’t drink that way, dear! ” 
cried Prue. “You can’t take the milk up 
in your hands,— 1 mean your paws. Here, 
I’ll show you how.” 

Very gently, but firmly, she pressed the 
kitten’s head down toward the milk, and 
she at once began to drink it as if she had 


26 


PRVE’S MERRY TIMES 


never thought of taking it in any other 
manner, 

“I’m glad school doesn’t begin till next 
week,” said Prue; “ you need me at home, 
and there’s five more days for you and the 
kitten to learn in. We’ll have a party 
every day, and, Tabby, you and Dahlia 
Keziah ought to know how to eat beauti- 
fully by that time.” 

“ Hello, Prue! Who be ye talkin’ ter? ” 
questioned a voice that sounded like a 
wheezy cornet or a penny trumpet, one 
could hardly say which. 

The owner of the voice appeared from be- 
hind a clump of lilac bushes that, at one 
point, hid the path. 

“ My! That hill ’most takes my breath 
away every time I come up here. The last 
time I dumb it, I vaowed I never’d do it 
agin.” 


NAMING THE KITTEN 


27 


“ Why don’t you go ’round? ” asked 
Prue. 

“ ’Baound ! ” gasped Mrs. Hodgkins. 
“ Why it’s ’bout two mile, or so, farther ter 
travel ’raound it. If I’m tuckered aout 
with cornin’ straight up here, where ’d I be 
ter go the longest way? ” 

She did not wait for Prue to answer her, 
but went in at the open door and at once 
sat down in the big rocker. 

Prue, bending lovingly over Tabby, whis- 
pered softly in her ear. 

“ You’ll have to take care of the kitten,” 
she said, “ because I’m going in to hear 
Mrs. Hodgkins talk. She always knows 
what every one in town is doing, and what 
they’re going to do, and I want to know, 
too. I promise to tell you if she says any- 
thing ’bout you, dear.” 

Mrs. Hodgkins always declared it difficult 


28 


PRUE’8 MERRY TIMES 


to breathe after having ascended the long 
hiU to the Weston farm, but she regained 
her breath very quickly, perhaps because 
she never could long remain silent. 

“ Joel Simpkins’s wife has got a new 
gown, an’ it’s off ’n the same piece er goods 
as is the gown that Barnes’s wife has just 
made. When ye reelize that Joel is jest a 
clerk in Barnes’s store, it don’t seem quite 
right fer that wife er his’n ter hev a rig like 
what his employer’s wife is peradin’ 
’round in. Does it? ” 

As usual, she waited for no reply, and 
continued: 

“An’ James Henry Bowers! AinH he 
prancin’ up an’ daown the length an’ 
breadth er the town? Since he’s naow the 
dancin’ teacher, he walks as if he had wire 
springs in his boots. My! But it’s a sight 
ter see him when his wife is with him. He 


NAMING THE KITTEN 


29 


skips an’ bounces along as if he was keepin’ 
time to a fiddle, an’ Statiry can’t keep step 
with him, but every time she ketches up 
she grabs his coat tails, as if she was holdin’ 
him daown fer fear he’d fly. Oh, they’re 
a sight, I tell ye! ” 

“ I do hope he’ll have good luck with his 
classes,” Mrs. Weston said, kindly. 

“ Wal, I s’pose I do, too, but I can’t help 
laughin’ ter see the queer figger he cuts, 
a-prancin’ ’raound the square,” Mrs. Hodg- 
kins replied. 

“ An’ speakin’ of ’pearances, I guess 
’twould be hard ter find a child that will 
look much funnier than Sophy Buffum will 
when she gits the new gown on that her ma 
is makin’ fer her.” 

“ Why will Sophy look funny? ” ques- 
tioned Prue. “ I thought new dresses al- 
ways looked nice.” 


30 


PRUE’S MERRY TIMES 


“You ain’t seen Sophy’s gown yet,” 
said Mrs. Hodgkins, “ so I’ll tell ye ’bout 
it. Her ma took a old plaid gown that 
Hitty had outgrown, an’ ripped it an’ 
washed it. When she come ter look at it, 
the places that was only thin, had gone 
clean through ter holes xn. the washin’ of 
it, an’ so the sleeves couldn’t be used, an’ 
the back breadth of the skirt was gone, 
too. She’d vowed she’d make a dress 
out’n it fer Sophy, so she went down ter 
Barnes’s store, an’ tried ter match 
it, but there wasn’t a yard of it 
left! ” 

“ Then, after all that work, she had ter 
give it up! ” Mrs. Weston said. 

“ I shouldn’t think ye knew Mis’ Buffum, 
er ye wouldn’t say that! ” exclaimed Mrs. 
Hodgkins. “ Barnes was baound ter seU 
some goods, an’ he said while he hadn’t any 


NAMING THE KITTEN 


31 


more of the plaid, he had some dress goods 
that was the same color that she could use 
with it. With that he up an’ showed her 
some bright green cloth with red figgers on 
it, an’ actooally advised her ter use it, be- 
cause ’twas the same colors as the plaid 
dress! Think of it. Mis’ Weston! Sleeves 
an’ a back breadth of the skirt of green 
woollen with red figgers on it, and the rest 
of the skirt an’ the waist of red an’ green 
plaid! ” 

“ Seems most too bad ter let her look like 
that,” said Mrs. Weston, “ an’ I guess I’ll 
run down there this afternoon. P’raps Mis’ 
Buffum and I can plan it some way so it 
will look better.” 

‘‘Ye couldn’t do it,” said the gossip, with 
what sounded like a chuckle, “ fer the 
pieces er plaid what she’s got left is full er 
holes.” 


32 


PRUE’S MERRY TIMES 


“ What will you do, ma? ” Prue asked, 
eagerly. 

‘‘I’ll see later,” Mrs. Weston replied, 
and little Prue thought her eyes twinkled. 

Mrs. Hodgkins felt that she had told all 
the news that she could think of, and as she 
was anxious to gather other items of inter- 
est, she said “ Good morning,” and hurried 
away. 

Philury, from the kitchen window, 
watched her, as she waddled down the path. 

“ The ducks cry ‘ Quack! Quack! ’ 

An’ the crows scream ‘ Caw! Caw! ’ 

But there never was such an 
Old gossip before. 

Fer the birds cry fer fun, 

An’ they’re only at play, 

But Mis’ Hodgkins talks gossip 
The hull of the day.” 

Philury ’s voice rose higher and higher as 
she sang this ridiculous verse of her own 


NAMING THE KITTEN 


33 


composition, the last word pronounced in 
a shrill voice that was absolutely deafen- 
ing. 

“ Phi-?M-ry! ” 

Mrs. Weston’s voice seemed to reprove, 
as she called her. 

“Yes, ma’am, I know I oughtn’t,” said 
the girl, “ but she talks ’bout the town’s 
best people just as free as if she’d a right 
ter, and she tells of hard luck as if she really 
enjoyed it. ’Taint kind, an’ I don’t think 
well of her fer doin’ it.” 

“Ye’re right ’bout that, Philury,” said 
Mrs. Weston, kindly, as she laid her hand 
on the girl’s arm, “ but yer song was sort 
er pokin’ fun, wasn’t it? ” 

“ I sung that ter pay her fer talkin’ so, 
but p’raps I done wrong. I’ll make most 
er the chunes I sing fer little Prue, here- 
after,” said Philury. 


34 


PRUE’8 MERRY TIMES 


“ Make one now, ’bout Tabby,” cried 
Prue. 

“ All right,” cried Philury, ‘‘ gi’me jest 
a minute ter think.” 

“ Oh, but don’t be long thinking,” cried 
Prue, ‘‘ ’cause I’m wild to hear it! ” 

‘‘ Well, here ye be!” said Philury, and 
to Prue’s great delight she sang this new 
composition: 

“ The kitten is dancin’ a jolly ol’ jig, 

An’ Tabby is wearin’ a han’some new wig. 

She made her head bald scratchin’ hard fer a flea, 
But she gained by the effort a brand new idee. 

“ She naow is the wisest ol’ cat in the town. 

Her wig is becomin’, she wears a new gown. 

She’s proud of her kitten, so frisky, they say. 
Named Dahlia Keziah! Naow isn’t that gay? ” 

Prue clapped her hands, and danced 
about, laughing with delight. 

Oh, that’s fine, fine! ” she cried, “ and 


NAMING THE KITTEN 


35 


Philury, don’t you wish. Tabby truly had a 
wig? ” 

Good land, yes,” agreed Philury, “an’ 
I wish it was red. Tabby’s kind o’ brindle- 
gray, an’ seems ter me her face with its 
green eyes would look grand peepin’ out’n 
a red, curly wig! ” 

And while Prue was laughing with Phi- 
lury, she quite forgot her anxiety regarding 
Sophy Buffum’s new dress. 

Sophy could not forget it, however, be- 
cause she was very closely watching Mrs. 
Buffum, as she tried the effect of the new 
goods, when compared with the old plaid 
frock. 

“ It’ll look funny,” declared Hitty, “ an’ 
I’m glad I outgrowed it so I won’t wear it.” 

“ Better wait ’fore ye crow! ” said Mrs. 
Buffum, “ fer I meant ter make it fer 
Sophy, but with the new goods I guess I 


36 


PRUE’8 MERRY TIMES 


kin make it big ’nougb fer you. It’s more 
of er savin’ ter make the ol’ dress do fer 
the Mg girl, an’ whilst yer little, yer big- 
ger ’n Sophy. I’ll know pootty soon which 
er ye’ll wear it.” 

The two children looked at each other. 
Each knew that the dress, when done, would 
be anything but tasteful, and each hoped 
that the other would have to wear it. 

Oh, ma! ” cried Hitty, “ don’t cut that 
new cloth up for sleeves. If it’s the size for 
me I just can^t wear it, and if it’s Sophy 
that’s got ter wear it, I know by the way 
she looks she won’t. Everyone at school 
would laugh ter see that dress coming in! ” 

“H’ity, t’ity!” cried Mrs. Buffum, 
pausing to look at the two small girls, her 
shears held in air, as if she were too amazed 
to lay them down. 

“ H’ity, t’ity, wal I declare! Has it 


NAMING THE KITTEN 37 

come ter this, that two little slips like you 
must choose their own clothes? I tell ye, 
one er t’other of ye’ll wear this gown; 
an’— ” 

A tap at the door interrupted this deter- 
mined threat, and a moment later Mrs. 
Weston entered. 

“ I heard, from Mis’ Hodgkins, that ye 
was havin’ quite a time trying to make 
over the plaid dress, so I come ter bring this 
bundle. Prue had a frock like Hitty’s, an’ 
I guess there’s ’nough in these pieces ter 
make some sleeves, an’ a back breadth.” 

‘‘ I do declare! Ye’re a neighbor wuth 
havin’. I do thank ye,” said Mrs. Buffum, 
while Hitty and Sophy looked into each 
other’s eyes, and thought that they had had 
a merciful escape. 

“ I do ’no’ what I can do with that green 
figgered cloth, unless I risk it ter make a 


38 


PRUE'S. MERRY TIMES 


vest OTit’n it fer yer pa, an’ I do ’no’s he’d 
stand it,” said Mrs. Buffmn. 

“ I wouldn’t blame pa if be jest hol- 
lered! ” whispered Hitty, and Sophy 
laughed softly at the thought of her father’s 
disgust, if he was asked to go to church with 
his portly figure decked out in a bright red 
and green vest. 

They ran out into the dooryard, and drew 
long breaths of the fresh air. They were 
gay at the thought that neither would be 
asked to wear a hideous dress to school. It 
was very easy for Mrs. BufEum to think that 
they should not mind the slurs and laughter 
of their schoolmates. 

It is unhappily true that little classmates 
are sometimes thoughtless, even cruel, and 
their taunts and jeering can make one who 
is less fortunate than themselves, and 
poorer dressed, so wretchedly uncomforta- 


NAMING THE KITTEN 


39 


ble that she would gladly remain away from 
school. There was one dear little friend 
who they knew never teased or vexed 
them. Full of fun and very bright was she, 
and her loving little heart always prompted 
her to be kind. It was little Prue. 


CHAPTER in 

SCHOOL BEGINS 

X OHNNY BUEFUM was greatly puzzled 
^ over the question as to which of two 
things he ought to do. 

“I’ve got some money, and I’d like ter 
make it last till Prue goes ter Boston for 
a visit,” he thought. He jingled the loose 
pennies in his pocket, and frowned as if 
thinking deeply. 

He thought Prue the nicest little girl in 
the world, and wished that she had not been 
invited to visit Boston. 

“ She’ll think this little old town, and the 
folks in it are just nothing at all, when she 
comes hack. 


40 


SCHOOL BEGINS 


41 


“ I mean she shall think I’m a nice sort 
of boy,” he whispered to himself, “ I tliinh 
she does, but I’m going to be sure of it. 

“ I meant to treat her every Saturday,” 
he continued, “ but if I want my pennies to 
last. I’ll have to spread them out.” 

Then a bright smile lighted his little, 
round face. 

“ I know what I’ll do! ” he said, “ I’U 
dance with her every Saturday afternoon, 
and I’ll buy her some candy every Wednes- 
day after school, and p'raps she won’t for- 
get me when she’s in Boston.” 

Clever little Johnny! Older boys than he 
plan in like manner to fasten the thoughts 
of their sweethearts upon themselves. 

He was in his tiny bedroom, brushing his 
flaxen hair with unusual care. It was the 
first day of school, and he wished to look as 
well as possible. 


42 


PRUE’S MERRY TIMES 


Downstairs the two small girls, Hitty 
and Sophy, were greatly excited. 

Mrs. Buffum was almost distracted be- 
cause neither would stand still long enough 
to have her dress buttoned. 

The frock that Hitty wore was the bright 
plaid, now fresh, and looking almost as fine 
as when it was new, while Sophy was re- 
joicing in a dress that no one of the family 
had ever worn. 

She was tired of wearing Hitty ’s old 
dresses. Here was one that never had be- 
longed to Hitty. 

It was an old gown that Great-aunt Blif- 
kins had tired of, and had sent to Mrs. 
Buftum to make over for one of the 
girls. 

As it was dark brown, with large white 
figures upon it, it was certainly anything 
but youthful. Mrs. Buffum had attempted 


SCHOOL BEGINS 


43 


to make it gorgeous by trimming it with red 
braid. 

A fine dressmaker would not bave called 
the effect a success, but Sopby viewed her- 
self, or as much as she could see of herself 
in the little mirror, and felt that she was 
elegantly dressed. 

“ Johnny! Jdhn-ne! ” shouted Mrs. Buf- 
fum. 

“I’m coming, ma,” cried Johnny, “I’m 
almost ready.” 

“ Seems ter me he’s gettin’ partic’lar, 
fussin’ fer a full half hour, ’fore he’s 
ready fer school. Land knows what I’ll 
do when all on ’em is gettin’ ready fer 
school! 

“ Why, come ter think on’t, they he goin’ 
ter school,” added Mrs. BufPum, 

“ Here, you Tommy an’ Ann! What on 
airth are ye thinkin’ of out there makin’ 


44 


PRUE’S MERRY TIMES 


mud pies. Come in an’ git ready fer 
school! ” 

Ann was a willing pupil, but small 
Tommy was full of wrath, and howled as 
she dragged him into the house. 

He alternately wailed and shouted while 
his face, hands, and hair were being put in 
order; and at last the children started to 
school, little Tommy bringing up the rear 
of the procession in anything but a happy 
manner. 

Mrs. Buffum, determined that he should 
on that first day of school, begin his life as 
a schoolboy, firmly grasped his hand, and 
ruthlessly dragged him along, while 
Tommy, to show his true feeling in the 
matter, shouted with all his might: 

“ I don’t want to go to school! I don’t 
want to go to SCHOOL! ” 

He might have screamed until he reached 


SCHOOL BEGINS 


45 


the schooUiouse but for something that oc- 
curred that stopped him with a suddenness 
that was startling. 

He was still screaming when Tom Thomp- 
son jumped over the stone wall at the side 
of the road, and for a second stared at little 
Tommy’s open mouth. 

“ Want ter git him ter school? ” he asked. 

“ Ain’t I jest lug gin* him? ” snapped 
Mrs. Buffum, whose patience was almost 
exhausted. 

“ I’U help ye,” said Tom. 

“ No, ye sha’n’t! ” howled Tommy, be- 
lieving that the big boy intended to carry 
him. 

Of course not,” said Tom Thompson, 
quickly, “ ye’re only a hahy, a big cry-hahy, 
at that! They wouldn’t let such a noisy 
critter inter the schoolhouse. School’s no 
place fer hahies! ” 


46 


PBUE’S MERRY TIMES 


“ I ain’t a baby! I’m a boy, an’ I ccm go 
to school as much as you can! ” cried 
Tommy, and, dropping his mother’s hand, 
he ran to join Hitty and Sophy. 

“ I’ll go now! ” he cried, looking back at 
his mother, “ I ain’t a baby now! ” 

“ Wal, I am tired,” said Mrs. Buffum, 
“ a-gittin’ the hull batch ready, an’ draggin’ 
Tommy, an’ him hangin’ back all the way, 
was almost like pullin’ a load er hay. My! 
But he give in quick when they called him 
a baby! I wouldn’t b’lieved it would have 
worked so. That Thompson boy would take 
the prize as a truant officer.” 

It was fun for the other pupils when 
small Tommy entered. They knew that he 
had declared that he would not go to school, 
and Tom Thompson had told how quickly 
he had changed his mind. 

“Wait till the teacher questions him! ” 


SCHOOL BEGINS 


47 


said Tom; ‘‘ ye couldn’t guess what the 
httle feller ’d say.” 

There was a new teacher every year, be- 
cause few could be induced to return a 
second season for the small salary that the 
town was willing to pay. 

This year the new teacher was young and 
pretty, and the pupils looked at her with 
evident admiration. 

“ Han ’some as a picture, ain’t she? ” 
said one of the older boys. 

“ ’Most as pretty as Prue,” thought 
Johnny BufEum, “ but not quite! ” 

She arranged her classes, and found 
places for the little ones who had come for 
the first time, and at last it came Tommy’s 
turn to be questioned. 

Hitty, believing that Tommy would sulk 
and refuse to answer, spoke for him, and 
regretted it. 


48 


PBUE’S MERRY TIMES 


“ He’s my little brother,” she said, “ and 
he wants to sit next to me.” 

Before Miss Penfield could reply, young 
Tommy spoke for himself. 

“ I don’t want ter sit side of anybody. 
I’d rather be out to play. I only come 
’cause I had ter.” 

‘‘ What’s that. Tommy? ” queried Tom 
Thompson, as he entered with an armful of 
wood. 

The small boy glanced at him, and as 
quickly as he had changed his mind when 
on the way to school, he changed it again. 

“ I mean I’m here, an’ I want ter stay! ” 
he said. 

That’s the talk,” whispered big Tom, 
“ Ye keep on feelin’ that way, an’ they’ll 
have ter let ye lead the football team ’fore 
long! ” 

Tommy knew better than to think that 


SCHOOL BEGINS 


4 » 

Tom meant that, but he felt that the big 
boy approved of him, and that was flatter- 
ing. 

There was one thing that troubled the 
new teacher, the more, perhaps, because she 
could not understand it. She noticed that 
there was much excitement, and she won- 
dered what it was all about. 

She saw J eremy Gifford making signs to 
Jim Simpson, and that the signals stopped 
when she turned her eyes that way. 

A moment later Bob Rushton and the 
Butley twins were talking with their fin- 
gers, and nodding, and shaking their heads 
to enforce their meaning. 

“ Boys, boys! This must stop. You must 
wait until recess to talk. Let me see you 
busy with your books! ” 

Miss Penfield looked as if she meant 
what she said, and soon the boys were occu- 


50 


PRUE’S MERRY TIMES 


pied with their lessons. The matter that 
so interested them seemed to hold their at- 
tention, however, and soon they were again, 
in dumb show, talking as busily as before. 
Thinking the boys were studying, the new 
teacher turned her attention toward the 
girls. 

They were behaving quite as badly. 
Carlie Shelton was tossing a note that she 
had written, across the aisle to Agatha 
Ware, while Hitty Buffum was actually 
standing up in her seat, in an effort to force 
her brother, Johnny, to look at her, and 
hear what she was about to say to him. 

Miss Penfield saw that something must 
be done. A firm hand must hold the reins, 
or the power to control them would be lost. 

She struck the tiny bell upon her desk. 
At once many pairs of eyes were turned 
toward her. 


SCHOOL BEGINS 


51 


Quietly but firmly, she told them that 
they must be orderly, must keep their minds 
upon their lessons, and that she intended 
that the classes under her care, should, at 
the end of the year, show that fine work 
had been done, and much accomphshed. 

And now,” she continued, “ I believe it 
is one and the same thing that you are all 
talking about. Am I right? ” 

She smiled, and little Prue piped up, in 
her sweet little treble: 

“We’re going to dancing school, we are, 
and it begins Saturday.” 

Miss Penfield laughed, and a feelipg of 
relief spread through the class-room. 

“ I am not surprised that you are all very 
eager for Saturday to come,” she said; 
“ but now I wish you to look at this side of 
the question. 

“lam here for the first time, and I want 


52 


PRUE’S MERRY TIMES 


to show what I can do. I cannot do myself 
credit, unless you help me, but if we work 
together, we can do wonders. I am glad 
that the Saturdays of this winter term are 
to be so pleasantly spent, but I want you to 
show that you can do more than one thing, 
and do it well. 

“ Show me and the school committee, for 
I have heard that they do not approve of 
the dancing school, that you can learn to 
dance without neglecting your study.” 

The committee did not approve of the 
dancing school! 

The children had not known that. If les- 
sons were neglected, could the dancing 
school be stopped? 

The thought caused them to bend at once 
over their books, and Miss Penfield knew 
that she had done well in telling them that 
the town fathers were not favoring Mr. 


SCHOOL BEGINS 


53 


James Henry Bowers, in Ms scheme to 
teach them the art of graceful move- 
ment. 

There were several stern old farmers who 
thought the little band-master very frivo- 
lous, and they had told the young teacher 
that James Henry Bowers was a menace to 
the school. 

“ The youngsters’ll git so full er prancin’ 
’raound that they’ll go ter school, an’ won’t 
I’arn nothin’! ” 

Such was the statement that Josiah Boy- 
den made to the crowd that sat around the 
rusty old stove in Barnes’s store. 

“ Ye can’t tell me nothin’,” he continued; 
“ I know boys an’ gals well, an’ I tell ye, 
ye’d ought ter walked past James Henry 
Bowers’s house this ’ere summer when he 
was a-practisin’. 

“ Actooally, ye could hear him hoppin’ 


54 


PRUE’S MERRY TIMES 


up, an’ daown, an’ stampin’, caperin’, an’ 
kickin’, while he caounted, at the top er 
his lungs, ‘ One, two, three! one, two, 
three! ’ 

“ Don’t every one er ye know that when 
children git goin’ on a thing there ain’t no 
such thing as stoppin’ of ’em? I tell ye, 
they never know when ter stop, an’ I’ll bet 
ye five cents that every one that I’ams ter 
dance, won’t know haow much two an’ two 
makes! ” 

He paused, his face fiushed and his eyes 
hashing, as he glared at the group before 
him. 

“ Oh, don’t ye git excited, Josiah! ” said 
a young farmer; you ain’t got a small 
fam’ly that wants ter go. Now, I’ve got 
two gawky small boys that’s goin’ if I have 
ter pinch on somethin’ else ter git the 
money ter pay Bowers with. 


SCHOOL BEGINS 


55 


Bowers says it’ll make ’em easy an’ 
graceful! Land knows lie’s tacklin’ a job, 
but I’m willin’ be sh’d try.” 

“ Made me laugh ter see bttle Johnny 
Buffum this morning,” said a sandy haired 
farmer who had just entered. 

“ He had his books under his arm an’ was 
trudgin’ along toward school, when all ter 
once he stopped as quick as if a bee had bit 
him, an’ layin’ his books on the grass he 
commenced ter point his toes this way an’ 
that, then he whirled ’raound twice, an’ 
then bowed low ter the big maple, as a 
wind-up ter his antics. Then he picked up 
his books, an’ walked off up the road 
toward the schoolhouse.” 

“ He’s a fine leetle chap,” said Jabez 
Brimblecom, “ an’ I, fer one, am glad the 
young folks is goin’ ter have some good 
times this winter. This place is apt ter be 


56 


PRUE’S MERRY TIMES 


a leetle dull, an’ Bowers will manage ter 
liven it up some.” 

“ I do ’no’ what ter think er ye, Jabez! ” 
said Josiah Boyden, adjusting his specta- 
cles, and then peering over them at his 
neighbor. 

“ Ain’t our friend here jest tellin’ ye 
haow young Johnny Buffum is cavortin’ 
’raound jest redic’lous? ” 

‘‘ Oh, don’t ye be sot in yer ways, Jo- 
siah,” said Jabez; “ children has got ter 
hev their day.” 

“ I didn’t hev no foolish gaiety when I 
was leetle,” Josiah responded. “ Why, 
when I was five year old my greatest pleas- 
ure was in meditatin’ on the fact that more 
money was wasted any year than was 
saved, and in de^arminin’ ter save all I 
could get so’s I could hev wealth! ” 

“I’m sorry ye was ’lowed ter set ’raound 


SCHOOL BEGINS 


57 


the house an’ med’tate on such thoughts as 
them, when ye was a leetle feller. Seems 
like ye was old an’ cranky when ye was 
born! ” said Jabez. 

“ I still say I don’t approve on’t! ” de- 
clared Josiah, as he angrily left the store, 
followed by the laughter of the crowd. 

“ I guess James Henery Bowers’s dan- 
cin’ school will flourish some, fer all er 
him,” said Jabez Brimblecom. “ He 
fairly makes me sick tellin’ us what he 
med’tated on when he was five years old! I 
wa’n’t a ninny, but I know what little med’- 
tatin’ I done, was as ter haow much punkin’ 
pie ma’d let me hev at table, an’ haow much 
I could hook ’thout bein’ ketched, between 
times! ” 

Truly the new teacher had done well to 
urge the pupils to their best endeavor that 
they might prove that they were doing 


58 


PRUE’S MERRY TIMES 


work in school, whatever their pleasures 
might be outside the building. 

On the way home from school, Hitty told 
Prue that she thought those ’mitty men 
were just horrid to say anything against 
the new pleasure that seemed to the chil- 
dren such a great delight. 

“It’s Saturday, and when next Saturday 
has come an’ gone, and we’ve had our first 
lesson from Mr. Bowers, wonH it seem ever 
so long to wait for the next Saturday after 
that? ” Hitty said. 

“ Mm,” crooned Prue, who answered 
thus because Johnny had just given her a 
huge candy ball, and she was obliged to 
speak around it. 

“ And I’ll tell you something,” said 
Johnny, “ and I didn’t know it till just be- 
fore recess. Tom Thompson says Mr. Bow- 
ers told him that there’s ten boys and girls 


SCHOOL BEGINS 


59 


cornin’ over from the Pour Corners, and ten 
from the town just beyond there, I’ve for- 
got its name, and his classes will all be 
jammed fuU! ” 


CHAPTER IV 


THE DANCING SCHOOL 

SATURDAY came at last, and it proved 
^ to be a bright, sunny day. 

James Henry Bowers had said that he 
should open his school on the first Saturday 
in October. The little man had supposed 
that it would be imperative that he wait 
some weeks in order that the frugal farm- 
ing people might have time to decide the 
mighty question of raising ten cents per 
week for little pupils, and twenty cents for 
the members of the evening class. 

He had been happily surprised, however, 
by a clamor for an earlier date, and thus 
the first term opened on the first Saturday 

in September. He had secured the little 
60 


THE DANCING SCHOOL 


61 


town hall, and he was jubilant when he 
opened the door at quarter of two, to find 
a crowd of eager faces looking up at him. 

“ Come in, come in! ” he cried; “an’ be- 
gin ter learn the art er graceful motion! ” 

He led the way up stairs, followed by an 
admiring crowd of small boys and girls, 
who, in loud whispers, praised his gorgeous 
apparel. 

James Henry Bowers had spared no ef- 
fort that might contribute toward improv- 
ing his personal appearance, and the whis- 
pered compliments caused him to blush 
with pleasure. 

He had parted his blonde hair nine times 
before he considered that it looked well 
enough to permit him to give his attention 
to some other details. He had literally 
soaked his head, and brushed it until not a 
single hair was awry. 


62 


PBUE’8 MERRY TIMES 


He had polished his boots until they were 
fairly dazzling. 

He wore a glossy shirt-front that spoke 
of hours that patient Mrs. Bowers had spent 
in an effort to assist in beautifying her hus- 
band’s costume. 

A very high collar, that threatened to 
choke him, a white tie, and a huge Ehine- 
stone stud, made him fairly resplendent, 
but the suit that he wore was the thing that 
most impressed the children. 

He had purchased it at a second hand 
clothing store in the city, and had been told 
by the proprietor, that it could be made to 
fit him to perfection. It had originally been 
made for a very large man, who must have 
towered over little James Henry Bowers, 
although in girth they would have measured 
about the same. 

To make the suit come somewhere near 


TEE DANCING SCHOOL 


63 


the right size, the fitter had cut the legs of 
the trowsers off at a point intended for 
the knees of the first owner. That ren- 
dered them just the right length for Mr. 
Bowers. 

The coat, when he had tried it on, 
had almost given him a fit of another 
kind than tailors are supposed to sup- 
ply- 

‘‘ Them swaller-tails actooally trail on the 
floor! ” he had cried in disgust, but the fit- 
ter had at once silenced him. 

“ That’s a good fault,” he had said, “ for 
if those tails were too short, we couldn’t 
lengthen ’em, but as they’re too long we 
can chop ’em off! ” 

That sounded cheering, and Mr. Bowers 
smiled again. 

So the dress-coat tails were cut off, and 
with fearful effect! 


64 


PRUE’8 MERRY TIMES 


As the suit had been designed for a tall 
man, it was, of course, long-waisted for Mr. 
Bowers, in truth the waist-line seemed try- 
ing to reach his knees, so when enough of 
the tails had been cut oft to make them 
reach the proper line on the trowsers, those 
tails were only twelve inches long, but oh, 
the breadth of them! They surely were 
twelve inches wide! 

Fortunately the little man did not look at 
his back, and as he admired his expanse of 
shirt-front, he was sure that he made an 
elegant appearance ! 

The little pupils were impressed, and 
whispers of: 

“ Ain’t he grand f ” 

“ Did ye ever see him look so hand- 
some? ” 

“ Isn’t he showy? ” filled him with de- 
light. 


THE DANCING SCHOOL 


65 


He liad brought bis cornet which he 
played in the village band, and when they 
reached the hall, he played a bugle call to 
summon them to order and attention. 

Mrs. Bowers was seated at the piano, and 
noisily strummed a polka to increase their 
enthusiasm. 

“ I can’t play fer them! ” she had said 
when her husband had first proposed it. 

“ I never done much with music when I 
was a gal, only practising on a old melodeon 
when ma had me take a few lessons. Think 
er me playin’ fer dancin’ school! ” she had 
said in surprise. 

“ Jest what I be thinkin’ of ! ” her hus- 
band had said. “ Why, Statiry! I can’t af- 
ford ter pay some one ter play fer me. It’ll 
take a pile ofE’n my profits! ” 

So meek Mrs. Bowers looked over her old 
music that she had not seen for years, prac- 


66 


PRUE’S MERRY TIMES 


tised at twilight, when the day’s work was 
done, and received generous praise from her 
husband for her effort. 

Now, in her place at the piano, she felt 
pleased to be assisting, and actually 
‘‘ dressy ” in her old black silk skirt that 
had been made over for the tenth time, and 
her waist of scarlet flannel. Truly, they 
were an oddly dressed couple! 

“We’ll let the girls try first,” said Mr. 
Bowers. 

He formed them in a line, and showed 
them a few simple steps. 

“ Now, let’s see ye do it! ” he cried, and 
the line of small girls tried their best to 
imitate him. 

Very patiently he took this one and that 
one from the line, correcting her, and again 
showing her how the steps should be 
done. 


THE DANCING SCHOOL 


67 


Then, he motioned to Mrs. Bowers, the 
music sounded, and this time the line of 
girls did the steps fairly well, and were 
quite elated that they had kept time to the 
music. They felt that, for the first time, 
they had almost danced! 

Then it was the boys’ turn. 

With broad smiles and awkward feet, 
they ambled forward, aware that all those 
bright eyed girls were watching them. 
They were about equally happy and miser- 
able. Happy in the thought that they were 
taking their first lesson in dancing, and 
miserable because they feared that the girls 
would laugh at them. 

“ Jeremy Gifford, turn your toes out! ” 
commanded Mr. Bowers. 

‘‘ I can’t! ” said Jeremy. “ My gran’- 
ther turned his toes in, an’ mine won’t 
budge! ” 


68 


PRUE’S MERRY TIMES 


A giggle from the line of girls made 
Jeremy’s face very red. 

“ I ain’t training yer gran’ther’s toes,” 
said the teacher; “I’m training yours, an’ 
they’ll turn out some ’fore the winter’s 
out! ” 

“ Like ter see ’em do it! ” whispered 
Jeremy, with a grin. 

“ Bob Rushton, step forward! Ye’re 
doin’ yer steps fine! Don’t hang back 
where folks can’t see ye! ” 

“ I just knew Bob could dance! ” whis- 
pered Carlie Shelton to Prue. 

“ And look at Johnny Buffum,” said 
Prue; “he’s working hard, and yet he 
looks funny. Why does he? ” 

Carlie Shelton watched him for a mo- 
ment. 

“ I guess he looks funny because 
every time he moves his legs, he moves 


THE DANCING SCHOOL 


69 


his arms, too,” she whispered exci- 
tedly. 

“Yes, that’s it,” agreed Prue, “ and his 
arms go as if he was sawing wood! ” 

Ah, now the girls were to try again, and 
the boys were very glad of the chance to 
watch them. 

“ Now, I want each of you little girls to 
take hold of your skirts, and make a cour- 
tesy. I’ll show the right way ter do it! ” 

“ How can he? Where’s his skirts ter 
take hold of? ” whispered Joe Butley. 

“ Look at him, an’ ye won’t ask that ques- 
tion! ” whispered Job. 

James Henry Bowers was indeed cutting 
capers! 

In place of a skirt, he grasped a coat tail 
in each hand, and made a courtesy as he 
wished the little girls to do it. 

The children were lost in admiration, all 


70 


PRVE’S MERRY TIMES 


save the naughty Butley twins. Joe Butley 
glanced at the little man, and giggled, while 
Job whispered: 

“ Ain’t he cunning? Jest like a little 
gal! See him hold his little skirts! ” 

Job was disappointed. No one laughed 
at his speech. They liked the little man, 
and looked with disapproval at the Butley 
twins. 

Prue shook her curly head at Joe, who 
at once stopped laughing. Joe wished Prue 
often to be his little partner, and resolved 
to be attentive. Job did not know that Joe 
had decided to keep quiet, and a moment 
later began to laugh, and turned to tell 
some funny thought to his brother. Im- 
agine his surprise when Joe turned him 
roughly around, and told him to “ keep 
still! ” 

Then the fun began. 


THE DANCING SCHOOL 


71 


The row of small girls advanced. Each 
grasped her skirt, some quite daintily, 
while others with the same wild grip that 
they would have given a swing rope. Out 
went each right foot, and then such a com- 
ical series of bows surely never were seen 
before! Little Agatha Ware courtesied as 
slowly, and as solemnly as if it were a state 
function, Prue did it with saucy grace, 
Carlie Shelton did it daintily, while 
Sophy Buffmn, determined to bow low 
enough, lost her balance, and sat down 
on the floor! 

She was not hurt, and she sprang up 
quickly, her cheeks very red, but her eyes 
laughing. 

The boys clapped and cheered her, and 
she thought that really too much to be pa- 
tiently endured. 

“Wait till you boys try to bow, and see 


72 


PRUE’8 MERRY TIMES 


who laughs then! ” she cried, her blue eyes 
flashing. 

“ That’s it, Sophy! ” cried Mr. Bowers; 
“ we’ll let them show us how flnely they 
can salute their partners.” 

The boys felt that making a bow must be 
easy, so when it was their turn to try, they 
advanced boldly, and surely their efforts 
were droll. 

Jeremy Gifford doubled up like a jointed 
doll; Johnny Buffum, not knowing what to 
do with his hands, thrust them down into 
his pockets, and nodded his head with a 
jerk, while little Jim Simpson, as chubby 
as a cherub, bowed slowly, his feet wide 
apart and braced, that he might not fall. 

Joe Butley, unaware that Job was ex- 
actly behind him, slipped one foot forward, 
and for some unknown reason, his left foot 
slid on the waxed floor, and caught around 


THE DANCING SCHOOL 


73 


the right foot of Job, promptly tripping 
h im up. 

Over they rolled, and the twins, usually 
so “ chrunmy,” sat up and began to call 
each other names. 

It was just here that the little dancing- 
master showed that he could manage boys. 

‘‘Ye done it purpose! ” cried Job. 

“ I did not! Yer feet was big, an’ got 
in my way,” declared Joe. 

“ ’Twas your feet that got in my way! ” 

“ Now, boys, here’s just yer chance ter 
show these little ladies that ye’re not com- 
mon boys, but real little gentlemen. Get 
up! ” 

They scrambled to their feet. 

“ Now, shake hands and be friends. 
Ye’re hind ’ring the lesson, an’ that’s rude. 
Come, shake hands, an’ be quick ’bout 
it!” 


74 


PRUE’S MERRY TIMES 


They shook hands, not with any en- 
thusiasm, it is true, but the lesson was re- 
sumed. 

This time there were more blunders than 
before, but they laughed at their errors, and 
tried with renewed effort, to improve. 

“ Oh, Mr. Bowers! ” wailed Johnny Buf- 
fum; “ that bow is awful hard to do. My 
feet get in my way, an’ I almost tumble 
over them.” 

‘‘ Keep yer courage up, Johnny,” was the 
prompt reply. “Ye can’t cut yer feet off, 
so the best thing ter do is ter learn ter man- 
age them! ” 

Johnny saw the point, and tried again. 

Again and again the sturdy little man 
drilled them, prancing about like a huge 
rubber ball, now at this end of the line, and 
then at the other. 

“ Now, we’ll have the line of boys an’ 


TEE DANCING SCHOOL 


75 


the line of girls come forward an’ salute! 
Mis’ Bowers, start yer music! ” 

Forward they tripped, keeping time to 
the old-fashioned march that tinkled forth 
from the rattling keys of the old piano. 

Johnny Buffum, at the end of the line, 
saw that little Prue was midway in the line 
of girls, and at once decided to change his 
position. He left his place, and, running 
along to where the Butley boys stood, tried 
to step in between them. 

“Here! What ye doin’?” cried Joe, 
“ ye can’t push in between us! ” 

“ I’ll have ter! ” insisted Johnny; “ IVe 
got ter bow ter Prue! ” 

“ Let Johnny in there, boys! ” said Mr. 
Bowers. “ Land knows he’ll have ter bow 
ter all the girls ’fore the winter’s out! ” 

“ Smart, ain’t ye? ” whispered Joe, but 
Johnny heard nothing, and saw nothing 


76 


PRUE’S MERRY TIMES 


but sweet little Prue, and he was so eager 
to make his bow to her, that he did it 
before any of the others had thought of 
saluting. 

“ I wonder ye don’t bow ter her before 
breakfast, so’s ter be on hand! ” muttered 
Job, but Johnny did not even hear that. 

They were very gay, in spite of the fre- 
quent blunders and correcting, and jolly lit- 
tle Mr. Bowers seemed to radiate cheer. 

“If ye learn as fast the next lesson, as 
ye did this first time. I’ll be proud of ye,” 
he said. 

“ Nothing can be learned jest one time 
tryin’, but keep at it, an’ we’re hound ter 
succeed,” he said, and when Bob Rushton 
shouted: “ Three cheers fer Mr. Bowers! ” 
they were given with a will. 

How they laughed, and chattered, as they 
ran down the stairway to the street! 


THE DANCING SCHOOL 77 

‘‘ I wonder if we’ll do the same things 
next Saturday? ” said Hitty Buffum, 

‘‘I’d think we’d have to,” said Johnny; 
“ we didn’t do the steps, or the bow well 
’nough ter stop practisin’.” 

“ Oh, I didn’t really mean that,’’ said 
Hitty. “ I only wondered if we’d do what 
we did to-day an’ some new things, beside.” 

“ P’raps so,” Johnny said, “ but I’d be 
willin’ ter spend one whole lesson bowing, 
if I could do it just el’gant.” 

“ It’ll take more than one lesson to make 
me do it fine. I felt as if I ducked when I 
courtesied just like the way our old well- 
sweep goes down with the bucket,” said 
Sophy. 

“ Well, ye did look like it,” said Joe But- 
ley, “ only ye ain’t quite so long.” 

“I’ll tell ye who’ll look more like a well- 
sweep,” said Jeremy Gifford, “ an’ that’s 


78 


PRUE’8 MERRY TIMES 


Tom Thompson. Him an’ Merilla Burton 
are goin’ ter the evening class, an’ they feel 
big I ” 

“ Well, they ought ter,” said Johnny 
Buffum, “ fer they are big. Tom’s a reg’lar 
bean-pole, an’ Merilla ’s just another.” 

“ Won’t it seem a long time to wait ’til 
next Saturday? ” said Sophy. “ I like to 
go, if I do make funny blunders,” she con- 
tinued; “ and I mean to practise with Hitty 
between now and the next lesson.” 

“ Ye don’t do any funnier than I do,” 
said Johnny, “ and ye couldn’t keep me 
from going.” 


CHAPTER V 

JOHNNY TEIES TO EARN 

i^NE morning, on the way to school, 
Hitty was talking with Sophy of 
Prue’s promised trip to Boston. 

“ She isn’t going till after Christmas,” 
said Hitty, “ hut even that’s too soon. I 
wish she wasn’t going at all! ” 

“ That’s what Johnny says,” said Sophy, 
“ and he told me something this morning, 
and I’ll tell you. He says he wants to earn 
some more pennies to buy treats for Prue, 
and he says he knows where he can get 
some this afternoon when school’s out. He 
won’t tell where.” 

“ Why won’t he? ” questioned Hitty. 

’Cause he don’t want me to tell, and 

79 


80 


PRUE’8 MERRY TIMES 


when I said I wouldn’t, he said I was a girl, 
and couldn’t help telling, I love Johnny, 
but he makes me mad when he says I do 
things because I’m a girl. I told him boys 
told things, too, but he only laughed, and 
said ‘ Not much! ’ ” 

It was not strange that the little sisters 
were curious. In the country town, there 
are few chances for the small boy to earn, 
and it was Johnny’s certainty that he could 
earn that made them wonder. 

‘‘ Did he say he would earn some? ” 
Hitty asked. 

“ Mm! ” said Sophy. 

‘‘I’m going to ask him, and make him 
tell me! ” declared Hitty. 

“ I think he ought to buy treats for us 
sometimes,” said Sophy, “ even if he gives 
most all he has to Prue.” 

“ That’s what I think,” said Hitty, “ for 


JOHNNY TRIES TO EARN 81 


we’re his own sisters. Last Wednesday 
after school he bought three pickles down 
to Barnes ’s store, and gave ’em all to Prue. 
I like Prue. She’s the nicest girl we know, 
but when Johnny bought three, I don’t see 
why he couldn’t give one to Prue, and one 
to you and me. I’m going to tell him to buy 
each of us something this time! ” 

Johnny, sitting on the stone wall near 
the schoolhouse, whistled merrily, and put 
extra force into his whittling, hoping thus 
to attract attention to the knife that he was 
using. 

“ Why, he’s bought a new knife! Don't 
he spend money, though? ” said Sophy. 

A little later Jeremy Griftord joined the 
group. 

“ Where did ye git that knife? ” he 
asked. 

Johnny tipped his head to one side, as if 


82 


PRUE’S MERRY TIMES 


carefully viewing his work, and then con- 
tinued his whittling. 

Where did ye? If ye don’t tell, I’U 
think ye hooked it.” 

Johnny’s clear, blue eyes looked straight 
into Jeremy’s little black eyes for a mo- 
ment. 

“ Ye know better ’n that! ” he said. 

“ Don’t be touchy, Johnny,” said Jer- 
emy, “ I was only teasin’ ye. Tell a feller 
where ye did git it. D’ye pay a quarter 
ferit?” 

Johnny shook his head, 

“ Twenty? ” questioned Jeremy. 

Again Johnny shook his head. 

‘‘ Ye didn’t get it fer fifteen! ” 

No, Johnny did not agree to that. 

“ Why don’t you speak? ” said Hitty. 

Johnny looked at her, and laughed in a 
teasing manner. 







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JOHNNY TRIES TO EARN 83 


“ Ten cents? ” ventured Jeremy; 
“ though I’m foohsh ter ask ye. Nobody 
could get a knife like that for ten cents.” 

“ I didn’t,” said Johnny, with a laugh. 
“ I didn’t pay ten, nor five, nor two, nor one 
cent for it, and I didn’t get it for nothing! 
There’s a riddle ’tisn’t easy ter guess.” 

Jeremy’s face showed such blank amaze- 
ment that Johnny laughed again, and, re- 
lenting, told how he obtained the bar- 
gain. 

‘‘ Deacon Stilkins drove over to the Cen- 
tre yesterday, and when he stopped at Silas 
Barnes’s store, he opened some letters, and 
when he’d read one of ’em he said he’d 
ought ter take the train for the next town 
where he wanted ter see a man. He opened 
his letters with this knife, and it seemed 
to me I’d never seen one I wanted so 
much. 


84 


PRUE’8 MERRY TIMES 


“ I said: ‘ Oli, Deacon Stdkins, what a 
handsome knife! ’ and he said: ‘ The handle 
is handsome, but it hasn’t but one blade 
now. The other is broke. ’ 

“ Then when he said he’d got ter go on 
the train ter the next town, and hadn’t time 
ter take his team back, I said I’d drive it 
home fer him, and tell Mrs. Stilkins where 
he’d gone. 

“ ‘ Ye do that fer me, Johnny, an’ I’ll 
make ye the owner er the pocket knife.’ 

‘‘ He was looking fer me when I came 
along this morning, and he gave it to me. 
There, now ye know where I got it, so ye 
won’t have ter guess.” 

“ All the bargains come your way,” said 
Jeremy, and Johnny felt that he was indeed 
fortunate. 

He resolved to have perfect lessons, that 
he might not be kept after school, and as 


JOHNNY TRIES TO EARN 


85 


soon as lie was free, hurry to the place 
where he believed he could get some pen- 
nies. 

Promptly at four o’clock, without a word 
to any one, he ran from school, and up the 
road to a fine looking farmhouse, where a 
family had just moved in. He did not know 
the new occupant, but already the place had 
an air of comfort, and prosperity. Near 
the house was a huge pile of wood lying 
in disorder, as if some one, of whom it had 
been purchased, had dumped it there. 

Johnny tapped at the door. 

A stout, resolute woman turned the latch, 
and Johnny felt that he was confronted by 
a giantess. 

‘‘ Would you like ter have me make all 
that wood into a woodpile? ” 

“ Think ye’re big ’nough ter do it? ” the 
woman asked. 


86 


PRUE’S MERRY TIMES 


“ Oh, yes,” Jo hnn y replied, I can do 
it.” 

“ "WTiat’s yer price? ” 

“ I ’most always let folks pay what they 
want to,” said Johnny. 

“ Well, go ahead,” said the woman. 

Johnny worked with all his might, and 
began to wonder how much wood there was 
to handle! He must get it done before 
dark, and he was surprised when he had 
worked a half-hour to see how much re- 
mained to be piled. He worked until twi- 
light, and then again knocking at the door, 
promised to be over early in the morning 
to finish the work before school. The 
woman assured him that she expected to 
see him at seven, and agreeing to be prompt, 
he hurried toward home. 

“ Gruess I’ll have ter begin at six, if I 
want ter get the pennies before school 


JOHNNY TRIES TO EARN 87 


time,” he said, and then he thrust his hands 
into his pockets, and whistled as he trudged 
along. 

The road was lonely, and the tall trees 
on either side, and the hedge of underbrush 
made the way so dark that even doughty 
Johnny felt the silence and the gloom, and 
shivered. 

To keep his courage up, he began to 
whistle louder, but the cracking of a dry 
branch stopped him in the middle of “ Yan- 
kee Doodle.” 

He looked over his shoulder, saw noth- 
ing; but the single note of a wee, lonely 
bird, called plaintively, and Johnny, with- 
out knowing why, felt impelled to run. 

And how he did run! 

His terror lent wings to his feet, and he 
raced over the road at a pace that was 
amazing, when one remembered what a 


88 


PRUE’8 MERRY TIMES 


dumpy short-legged little fellow he 
was. 

It seemed to Johnny that home had never 
been so hard to reach, and he tried to run 
even faster. 

“ Why, Johnny Buffum! ” cried Hitty, 
when she opened the door and he stum- 
bled in. 

“ Where have you been? Ma’s been call- 
ing you for ever so long, and IVe hunted 
for you ’til I’m tired.” 

“ Been up the road making a woodpile 
fer a woman,” gasped Johnny, as he 
dropped on a chair. 

“ Ever since school? ” Sophy asked. 

“ Ever since school,” Johnny repeated. 

“ I hope she paid ye well fer workin’ all 
that time,” said Mrs. Buffum, who was set- 
ting the table. 

I didn’t get it done,” said Johnny; 


JOHNNY TRIES TO EARN 89 


“an’ I’ve got ter be up at six to-morrow 
morning, so I can finish that woodpile ’fore 
I go to school.” 

“ What’s she goin’ ter pay you? ” Hitty 
asked. “ Did she say? ” 

“ She asked me what my price would be, 
an’ I said I ’most always let folks pay me 
what they want ter,” said Johnny, adding; 
“ She may give me more than I’d dare ter 
ask for.” 

“ ’Tain’t alius safe ter trust other folks 
ter make a price fer yer. Sometimes their 
idees is tur’ble small,” said Mr. Buffum, 
who had just come in from the barn. 

Johnny made no reply, but suddenly the 
stern face of the woman seemed again to 
be looking at him, and he wondered if 
he had been foolish in thinking that a 
woman with a face like that could be gen- 


erous. 


90 


PRUE’S MERRY TIMES 


Wlien they were all seated at the table, 
enjoying a hot supper, Johnny again took 
a cheerful view of things and wondered how 
he could have been so frightened out there 
in the dark. 

“ A lamp does make some difference,” he 
thought, and he was glad that he was safe 
at home. 

Promptly at six on the following day, 
Johnny ran up the path to the dooryard, and 
resumed his work on the woodpile. It did 
not seem quite as huge as it had the night 
before, and he worked with furious zeal 
until the last bit was in place. 

He looked at the woodpile, drew a long 
breath, rubbed his hands together briskly, 
finishing the task with his little handker- 
chief, then he knocked at the door. 

It was quickly opened, and the woman 
looked at the woodpile. 


JOHNNY TRIES TO EARN 


91 


“ Made a good job of it,” she said; ‘‘ jest 
wait a minute.” 

Johnny waited. He thought that she had 
gone to get her pocketbook. He looked oft 
across the sunny fields, and wondered if 
there was any especially tempting candy 
down at Barnes’s store, and whether there 
would be time to buy it at noon, or if he 
would have to wait until after school. 

Again the door opened, only a few inches, 
and a big arm and hand thrust out, — a 
slice of bread and butter! 

Johnny looked at it, and gasped! 

‘‘ Take it, bub! ” said the woman, ‘‘ yer 
can’t pile wood fer nothin’.” 

In sudden wrath, Johnny pushed it from 
him. 

“ Keep yer ol’ bread! ” he cried; “ ye 
may need it. I kin get ’nough er that at 
home! ” 


92 


PRUE’8 MERRY TIMES 


With his eyes blinded with tears, and his 
little heart filled with bitter disappoint- 
ment, Johnny ran down the path, followed 
by the slice of bread that the angry woman 
had flung after him. 

It had been a sharp trick that had in- 
duced him to do so much hard work, hoping 
for a payment he was not to receive. 

The woman well knew that he had ex- 
pected money, and she had taken advantage 
of him. He had said that he let people pay 
him what they chose, and she had chosen 
to part with no money. 

Poor little Johnny! He had not noticed 
which way he was going, until he stumbled 
over a stone at the side of the road, rolled 
over, and then sitting up, looked in amaze- 
ment at the guide board, that stood at the 
bend of the road. Pour Comers, one 
mile,” it said. 


JOHNNY TRIES TO EARN 


93 


Blinded with his tears, he had not noticed 
which way he went when he had rushed 
from the door, and he had gone in the oppo- 
site direction from the road that led to the 
schoolhouse. 

“I’m acting like a baby,” he said, in dis- 
gust, as with a rather grimy handkerchief 
he wiped the hot tears that would come. 

“ She was mean, but everybody isn’t. I’ll 
not cry, she sha’n’t make me! She cheated, 
and I wouldn’t cheat. 

“I’m bigger ’n she is, that way, for I 
wouldn’t be mean to any one.” 

He picked himself up, and strode up the 
road toward school. 

“ I won’t work for her again. I’ll work 
for folks that’ll pay! ” 

By the time that he had retraced his 
steps, and reached the schoolhouse yard not 
a trace of his anger was on his jolly little 


94 


PRUE’S MERRY TIMES 


face, and lie joined in the games, and 
seemed as gay as any of the boys. 

He had not forgotten the woman, nor her 
meanness toward him, hut he had no idea 
of telling his schoolmates about it. He 
knew that while some would be sorry for 
him, others would be amused, and he could 
not bear their laughter. He had been 
deeply hurt. 

He kept closely with the boys until the 
bell rang. He knew that Hitty would be 
wild to question him, and he was not eager 
to tell her what the payment had been. 

She did not think to ask him on the way 
home from school at noon, but when they 
were all seated at the table, she turned, and 
looked at him. 

“ What did the woman pay? ” she asked. 

Johnny put down his knife and fork, and 
returned her gaze. 


JOHNNY TRIES TO EARN 


95 


He could not answer, because of the 
ache in his throat. Indeed, he looked so 
strangely that Hitty slipped from her chair, 
and laid her hand on his shoulder. 

“ Oh, Johnny, what did she do? ” she 
asked. “ Didn’t she pay you after you did 
the work? ” 

Then Johnny, who had bravely said that 
he would not cry, broke down completely, 
and Mrs. BufEum, now really alarmed, be- 
gan to question him. 

At last the whole story came out, and 
Johnny’s heart felt lighter for the telling. 

“ Wal, now, Johnny,” said Mr. BufEum, 
“ I’m sorry fer yer, an’ I see jist haow ye 
feel, but much as I hate ter have ye cheated, 
I rather ’twould be that, than ter have ye 
tell me you done the cheatin’. Ye did hon- 
est work when ye made the woodpile, an’ 
it’s a pootty mean woman that would cheat 


96 


PBUE’S MERRY TIMES 


ye like that, I’d be ashamed of her if she 
b ’longed in my fam’ly, but I ain’t never 
ashamed er my little son! ” 

“ Oh, pa, ye do comfort! ” cried Johnny. 
‘‘I’m goin’ ter give ye five cents ter help 
ye over the dis’pintment, and as some er 
the pennies was likely ’nough ter treat lit- 
tle Prue, I guess ma kin help ye out some.” 

As he spoke, good Mr. Buffum laid the 
five pennies beside Johnny’s plate, 

“ I’ll make ye some fine tarts,” said Mrs. 
Buffum, “an’ ye shall invite Prue down 
here ter tea to-night.” 

“ 0 dear,” said Johnny, with a happy 
sigh, “ my own folks are just awful good! ” 
“ I ain’t goin’ ter be left out,” said Hitty. 
“ I was goin’ to ask you to treat Sophy an’ 
me, but you didn’t get anything from the 
mean woman. Now Sophy an’ me has each 
got a penny, an’ we’ll put that with the five 


JOHNNY TRIES TO EARN 


97 


that pa gave yer. You sha'n't work for 
nothing! ” 

Johnny thought he ought not to take it, 
but Mr, Buffum insisted. 

“ Let ’em do it, Johnny. They’re yer 
sisters, an’ they’re showin’ the right feelin’. 
Some time ye can do something nice fer 
them.” 

“ I will,” said Johnny, and he now felt 
very happy. 


CHAPTER VI 

HI BABSON 

O F course Prue accepted Jolmny’s in- 
vitation to tea, and after school went 
home with all the little Buffmns. 

They played games until twilight, when 
Mrs. BufEum called them in. 

Such a chattering of merry voices! 
Around the table they formed quite a little 
party, Prue sitting between Johnny and 
Hitty, while Sophy, and Tommy, and Ann 
were opposite. 

The dish of apple- jeUy tarts graced the 
centre of the table, and they vanished as 
soon as they were passed to the eager chil- 
dren. 


98 


El BAB80N 


99 


“ Hi Babson used to eat the middle of 
his tart, and then peep through the ring 
just as if it was an eyeglass,” said Johnny. 

Look! This is the way he did it.” 

He had eaten the centre of his tart, and 
now held up the ring of crust, as if it were 
a monocle. 

“ I wish he was at school with us now,” 
said Hitty, “ for he was always full of fun.” 

“ And his ma used to be real cheerful,” 
said Mrs. Buffum, “ but since Hi run away 
from home, she don’t feel interested in any- 
thing.” 

“ I shouldn’t think she would,” said Mr. 
Buffum; “ just think haow ’twould seem if 
our Johnny had taken a notion ter run off 
like Hi Babson did. S’pose we’d care fer 
much? ” 

“ Oh, don’t ye mention it! ” cried Mrs. 
Buffum. 


100 


PRUE’S MERRY TIMES 


“ Ye needn’t think ’bout it,” said 
Johnny, “ fer I wouldn’t ever do it. I love 
this house an’ all the folks in it, an’ as 
you’re in it now, Prue, ye know I mean you, 
too.” 

“ And I love you all,” said Prue. 

And while the happy children enjoyed 
their tarts, and talked so lovingly together, 
remembering their little absent playmate. 
Hi, the boy’s mother stood at the old 
gateway, looking down the road. The shad- 
ows lengthened, but she did not notice 
that. 

It had been her habit, ever since her boy 
had left home, to stand there, looking ear- 
nestly down the road, as long as a ray of 
light remained in the western sky. 

When the twilight deepened, and at last 
a single star appeared, she would watch 
that star for a moment, her lips repeating 


El BABSON 


101 


the prayer that her sad heart prompted, 
then, half despairing, she would walk 
slowly up the path, and entering the house, 
close the door softly behind her. 

Now, as on all other nights, she stood at 
the old gateway, leaning heavily on one of 
its posts. 

The evening breeze stirred the great 
trees, and down in the grass the crickets 
sang their little, droning chant. 

The woman seemed not to hear the voices 
of the night, and the breeze and the crickets 
sang on, unnoticed. 

“ Somewhere he is safe, I’m sure, and if 
only I knew where, how soon I’d run to 
him,” she whispered. 

At the very time that his mother was 
looking out into the night, and thinking so 
earnestly of him, little Hi Bahson lay close 


102 


PRUE’S MERRY TIMES 


beside big Jim under tbe canvas of the cir- 
cus tent, unable to go to sleep. 

A slit in tbe canvas showed the star, the 
same star that had shone down upon his 
mother as she stood in the gateway. 

He was thinking of that early morning 
when he had gone away to join the circus. 

Was he sorry? Did he wish that he had 
remained on the old farm? A sob shook his 
slender form, and big Jim, with whom he 
always slept, turned and took him on his 
arm. 

“ What is it, little feller? ” he whispered. 
“ Tell Jim, can’t yer? ” 

Hi nestled close to the big, kind-hearted 
fellow who had been a friend, indeed, since 
the day that they had first met. Jim was 
the drummer of the circus band, and he and 
little Hi made an odd pair. 

“ Chums,” the members of the troupe 


El BABSON 


103 


called them, and the term fitted. Big, 
flaxen-haired Jim was happiest when the 
boy was close beside him, while Hi cared 
for nothing that he could not share with 
Jim. 

YeVe always helped me, Jim,” he 
whispered, again nestling closer. 

I always will,” Jim said, close to the 
boy’s ear. 

“ I had a hard time learning ter ride, but 
I can do it now,” said Hi. 

‘‘ Mantelli is our best rider, an’ he 
trained ye,” said Jim, “ an’ he says ye ride 
as fine as any man could. That’s why I 
made Pagington pay ye. He said ye was 
only a child, an’ I said that didn’t make no 
difference. ‘ He’s a star performer,’ says 
I, ‘ an’ he’s ter have a decent sal’ry.’ I 
reminded him we’d always been good 
friends, him an’ me, but says I: ‘Ye’ll give 


104 


PRUE’S MERRY TIMES 


little Hi the wages he earns, or I’ll fight 
with ye till I convince ye.’ When I said 
that he give in, an’ he’s paid ye ever since. 
D’ye know how much ye’ve got, little fel- 
ler? I’ve took care of yer money fer ye, 
an’ I know.” 

“ How much? ” whispered Hi. 

Jim whispered the amount softly, that 
only the boy might hear. 

‘‘ Oh-o! ” gasped Hi. I didn’t know I 
had so much! ” 

“Ye have,” whispered Jim, “an’ ye’ll 
add to it all the time.” 

Hi lay very still. He was thinking of the 
money, and wondering what it would do. 
He had never handled money, and he knew 
nothing of the cost of living. 

“ What set ye thinking. Hi? ” 

“ This is the first chance I’ve had ter 
think,” the hoy replied. “We’ve been 


HI BABSON 


105 


having a show every afternoon and evening 
for a long time, and I’ve been so tired at 
night that I dropped sound asleep the min- 
ute I laid down.” 

“We couldn’t reach the next town in 
time ter have the show this evening, an’ 
p’raps it’s jest as well. The whole troupe is 
tired, ’specially you, little feller,” whis- 
pered Jim. 

“I’m worse ’n tired,” murmured Hi, and 
Jim felt a strange fear. 

“ Ye ain’t sick. Hi, he ye? ” he asked, 
in a whisper that was hoarse with anxiety 
and fear. “ Say, lad, ye ainH, are ye? ” 

“I’m /homesick; that’s all the kind of 
sick I am,” whispered Hi, “ but I don’t 
want to go home. I haven’t any home to 
go to. Uncle Babson’s house where ma an’ 
I stayed wasn’t any home. He was pa’s 
brother, an’ he’s a deacon. He’s a awful 


106 


PRUE’S MERRY. TIMES 


good man every one says, an’ I guess he is, 
but he ain’t pleasant ter live with. 

“ He let us live there, ’cause he had ter, 
but he showed all the time that he didn’t 
want ter.” 

“ But if ye’re homesick, an’ don’t want 
ter go home, what’ll cure ye? ” questioned 
Jim. 

“I’ll tell ye what! ” whispered Hi, in 
great excitement. “ I said, a long time ago, 
that I’d stand it till I’d learned ter ride, an’ 
then I’d send fer ma. If I’d let her come 
before I could ride, mayhe she’d made me 
go back ter the ol’ farm. Now if she sees 
me ride, an’ ye tell her what I’m earning, 
she’ll want me ter stay, but oh, Jim! If I 
could have her near me always! ” 

A sob choked his whispering, and Jim 
listened a moment to learn if that sob had 
been heard. 


HI BABSON 


107 


Then folding the boy closer, he whispered 
softly in his ear: 

“ Try ter sleep now, Hi, an’ bright 
an’ early ter-morrer morniag we’ll plan it 
all.” 

“ To-morrow, to-morrow I Oh, Jim! ” 
murmured Hi, and with his head on Jim’s 
faithful breast, he went to sleep. 

He was the first to wake when day 
dawned, and turning he gently pushed the 
waving fiaxen hair back from Jim’s fore- 
head. 

“ Jim! Jim! I’m ready to talk now! ” 
he whispered. 

‘‘ Well, this is what I had ter say,” said 
Jim. “Ye know little Henrique, when he 
rode in this circus, always had his ma with 
him. He ain’t going ter ride fer a year, 
’cause he ain’t well. Naow, boy, as ye’re 
earning ’nough ter pervide fer her, I mean 


108 


PRVE’8 MERRY TIMES 


Pagington shall let her travel with us. 
What d’ye say? ” 

Hi threw his arms around the drummer. 

“ Oh, will he let me have her? How 
would he find her? ” Hi asked. 

“ If ye say so, I’ll make him let ye have 
her, an’ be pleasant ’bout it, too.” 

“ Oh, I do say it! ” said Hi, his eyes 
bright with excitement. 

‘‘ Then leave it ter me,” Jim replied, 
“ an’ I’ll fix it all right. 

“Ye better not ask me ’bout it fer a day 
er two,” he continued, “ for I’ll have ter 
work careful, and ask him jest right, but 
I’ll fetck it, ye may trust me.” 

“ An’, Jim, I’ve been proud ter ride fine, 
and I’ve liked it when the folks clapped, 
but when ma sees me ride, oh, Jim, I can’t 
tell ye how gay, how sort o’ wild happy I’ll 
be, fer I’m her own, an’ she’ll be proud an’ 


El BAB80N 


109 


glad, oh, I know she’ll be glad ter be with 
me! ” 

There was the banging of a gong, that 
summoned them to a hasty breakfast, and 
then all were kept busy getting ready to go 
over the road to the next large town. 

Jim, in addition to his task as drummer 
in the circus band, was entrusted with the 
showy posters that told when the troupe 
would appear. 

Lottie, the lady rider, kept a watchful 
eye upon Hi, while Jim was gone, and thus 
it was that Hi could not talk with his friend 
until after the evening performance. 

He did not question him then. He had 
promised not to, and, indeed, when night 
came. Hi was often too tired to talk, falling 
asleep as soon as his head touched the pil- 
low. Jim, faithful to his promise, had had 
a long talk with Pagington, a talk that 


110 


PRUE’8 MERRY TIMES 


lasted an hour, and when they had finished, 
Jim had secured the agreement that Hi’s 
mother should travel with them, the price 
of her board being deducted from the 
money paid to Hi. 

‘‘ How’ll ye find her? ” Pagington asked. 

“ I know how, an’ I’ll do it! ” said Jim. 

One morning when Hi awoke, he found 
Jim missing. He had snuggled close to him 
the night before. Where was he now? 

‘‘ Gone off on important business,” said 
Pagington, when Hi questioned him, and 
Hi believed that Jim was distributing post- 
ers. 


Jim knew very well where to find the 
little town where Hi had lived, and he pos- 
sessed more tact than any one would have 
believed possible. His kindly face made 
friends for him everywhere, and as he 


El BABSbE 


111 


strolled up the road toward the “ square,” 
he noticed the big willow tree, the stone 
drinking-trough, and then, Barnes’s store. 

“ Guess that’s where I’ll find out,” he 
said, and he sauntered across the road, and 
entered the store. 

He found a group sitting around the 
stove, exchanging gossip and spinning 
yarns. Indeed, the same crowd circled the 
stove in winter to keep warm, and in sum- 
mer, from force of habit, they occupied the 
same place. 

They looked up to greet the stranger, and 
were won by his pleasant smile. 

Howdy,” remarked old Hate Burnham, 
“ cornin’ here ter locate? ” 

“ Ho,” Jim replied, “I’m a sort of an 
agent.” 

“ Peddlin’ lightnin’ rods? ” queried a 
farmer, who had become curious. 


112 


PRUE’8 MERRY TIMES 


“No,” said Jim, “ but I’m some inter- 
ested in the place, an’ I’m jest lookin’ 
’round.” 

“ Goin’ ter buy a farm? ” queried Joel 
Simpkins. 

“Not ter-day,” said Jim. “Go on with 
the yarn ye was tellin’ when I come in.” 

“ Oh, we was talkin’ ’bout a boss trade 
that Joel Simpkins made, an’ he says he’s 
got a bargain, but none of us can see 
haow.” 

“ Wal, I did! ” declared Joel, “ an’ if 
you’d seen that ’ere hoss go up the road 
yesterday afternoon, ye’d have said she was 
a team. Why, when we was half-way up 
the hill, she let aout a spurt of speed, an’ 
shot past the old Babson farm like greased 
lightning, an’ Mis’ Babson, standin’ in the 
gateway, looked actooally scaret when we 
raced by! ” 


El BAB80N 


113 


The Babson farm! Jim knew it would 
arouse curiosity if he asked where the farm 
was, but he waited. 

“Ye know the Babson farm is quite a 
run from here! ” said Nate Burnham. 

“ I know ’tis, an’ I tell ye we done it in 
two-ten,” declared Joel. Shouts of laugh- 
ter greeted his statement. 

“ Ye’re jealous, every one of ye, ’cause I 
got that hoss. If this feller wasn’t a stran- 
ger, I’d make him say if that wasn’t a good 
clip fer any critter ter run,” said Joel. 

“I’ll tell ye what ter do,” said Jim, who 
saw the chance that he wanted, and took it, 
“ I’ll tell ye jest what ter do. Walk over 
ter the Babson farm, so’s ter show me 
where ’tis, an’ I can tell whether ’twas 
much of a run or not. I understand horses, 
an’ I know what they kin do.” 

“ Let him see the hoss, fust, Joel, an* 


114 


PRUE’8 MERRY TIMES 


then show him where he raced to! ” cried 
Nate Burnham. 

All right! ” said Joel, and he showed 
the horse to Jim. 

’Tain’t a showy critter,” said Jim, 
“ but sometimes the ones ye least expect it 
of, are great for running. Let’s see where 
she went.” 

Up the road they tramped, Jim delighted 
to think how much quicker he would reach 
the Bahson farm than if he had depended 
upon a description of the place and its loca- 
tion. 

“There!” cried Joel, “here we be! 
That’s the Bahson farm, an’ naow don’t ye 
call this quite a stretch ter run in two 
ten? ” 

“I’d call that a fast trip fer any crit- 
ter! ” said Jim, thus telling the truth, and 
winning Joel’s admiration. 


HI BABSON 


115 


“ Wal, stranger, ye know a fine boss 
when ye see it. I’ll walk farther with ye 
if ye need company, but if ye don’t, I’ll go 
back an’ tell them fellers at the store what 
ye say.” 

Ob, don’t ye wait fer me,” said Jim, 

I’m enjoying looking ’round.” 

They shook hands, and Joel hurried hack 
toward the store. 

Jim watched until he disappeared behind 
a clump of trees. Then he turned and 
strode up the path to the door of the Babson 
house. 

He knocked, and in a few moments 
he heard quick footsteps along the 
hall. 

The door opened, and a smart, black-eyed 
woman looked curiously at him. 

“I’ve called ter see Mis’ Babson,” said 
Jim, lifting his hat and bowing. 


116 


PBUE’S MERRY TIMES 


“I’m Mis’ Babson, tbe deacon’s wife,” 
said tbe woman. 

“ The one I need ter see is a widow,” said 
Jim, “an’ I’d like ter see her if she’s to 
home.” 

“ She’s out in the grove, a-dreaming, I 
call it,” said the deacon’s wife, “ but if 
ye’ll come in. I’ll call her.” 

Jim walked in, and looked around the 
little front parlor. He wondered how any 
one could like to live in a house, when a 
canvas tent was so much nicer. He was a 
tall, broad-shouldered fellow, and he actu- 
ally felt cramped in the Babsons’ parlor. 


CHAPTER Vn 

JIM MAKES A CALL 

J IM was looking out of the tiny window, 
when the door opened, and a tall, slen- 
der woman entered, a woman whose sad 
face touched his honest heart. 

‘‘Ye came ter see me? ” she said, and 
the low voice seemed full of unshed 
tears. 

Jim looked down at his hat that he held 
in his hands, and then, looking up at her, 
he said: “ I come ter see ye, because I had 
ter. I wish ye’d sit down, while I talk ter 
ye. I’ve got some things ter tell ye, an’ one 
favor ter ask.” 

“ That’s odd,” said the woman, “ fer 


117 


118 


PRUE’S MERRY TIMES 


ye’re a stranger, though I’d help a stranger 
if I could.” 

Ahem! ” said Jim, clearing his throat 
as if thus it might be easier to tell his er- 
rand. 

“I’ve come ter see ye in the interest of 
a friend er mine. In fact he’s my chum,” 
he said, “ an’ he’s got a notion that he must, 
— yes, ma’am, — that he jest must see ye. 
If ’tain’t askin’ too much of ye, I’d like ter 
ask ye ter let me take ye to him.” 

“ But ye’re a stranger ter me, an’ so, of 
course, is yer chum,” said the bewildered 
woman, “ so why should he want ter see 
me? ” 

She questioned if the man was responsi- 
ble. He surely looked kind, and absolutely 
sane, yet she wondered. 

“ Wal,” said Jim, slowly, and he rose to 
face the woman who had remained stand- 


JIM MAKES A CALL 


119 


ing, “ he ainH a stranger ter ye, although 
he ain’t seen ye fer some time, an’ bein’s 
he’s pootty young he jest needs ter see ye.” 

“ He’s young, ye say, young, an’ he needs 
ter see me? Why, who — ” 

Then a quick light flew into her eyes. 

“Hi! Is it, oh, is it my boy? ” she cried, 
and she put out her hands to grasp his, tot- 
tered, and would have fallen but for Jim. 

“ Steady, now, steady! ” he said gently, 
as he led her to a chair. “ Sit stiU a minute, 
an’ git some calmer, an’ used ter the idee 
that ye can be with him soon.” 

She looked at him, as if she but dimly 
understood, and for a moment neither 
spoke. 

Jim pitied her. He saw that the absence 
of little Hi had worn upon her, so that now 
she hardly realized that what he had told 
her had been true. 


120 


PRUE’S MERRY TIMES 


She leaned forward and looked into Jim’s 
kindly eyes. 

“Ye’re a stranger, but ye look honest 
an’ good. Ye wasn’t joking? I will see my 
little Hi soon? ” she asked. 

Jim took her trembling hands in his, and 
spoke as gently as if comforting a tired 
child. 

“ What I told ye was true. Ye shall see 
little Hi the first minute ye feel able ter. 
He ran away from this farm, not because he 
didn’t love his ma, but so’s ter dodge 
weedin’ the garden an’ all such chores as 
the deacon made him do. Now, don’t ye 
he scaret at what I’m going ter tell ye. He 
left here, an’ j’ined the circus comp’ny that 
was in town at that time, an’ he’s been with 
the circus ever since. 

“He’s well, an’ strong, an’ contented,” 
Jim continued, “ but he says he needs you. 


JIM MAKES A GALL 


121 


Will ye come? At first he didn’t git no pay, 
but now he’s earnin’, an’ he sent me ter git 
ye.” 

“ Who are you? ” she asked, anxiously. 

“I’m his true friend, an’ yours,” said 
Jim. “ I b’long in the band, an’ since he 
didn’t have no mother with him, I’ve tried 
ter be a father ter him.” 

“ Bless ye fer that! ” said Mrs. Babson, 
“ he needed ye, I know, but he needs his 
mother, too.” 

“ The girl what I’m engaged to is a rider 
in the circus. She’s one er the best girls 
that ever lived, an’ she’s looked after him 
real careful, kept his clothes mended, and 
encouraged him right along. He waited ter 
send ter ye ’til he could tell ye he was earn- 
ing.” 

“ But what does he do? What could lit- 
tle Hi do in a circus? ” she asked. 


122 


PRUE’S MERRY TIMES 


“ I, guess Hi wants ter tell ye that,” said 
Jim; “an’ now, what day shall I come fer 
ye. Mis’ Bab son? ” 

“ What day? Why, I’m goin’ with ye 
now! See how long I’ve waited ter see his 
face! Could I wait any longer? ” she 
asked, springing to her feet. 

“ It made me weak when I first heard 
it, but now? Why, I’m strong, and I’ll jest 
get my bunnit an’ shawl, tell the folks I’m 
going, an’ I’ll hurry off with you.” 

“If ye feel able, I do tell ye, it’ll make 
the boy wild with delight to see ye so soon,” 
said Jim. 

She rose, and hurried to the door. 

“I’ll not be long,” she said, and went 
out, closing the parlor door behind her. 

A moment later Jim heard voices in the 
hall, in excited conversation. One was 
Hi’s mother who was speaking, the other 


JIM MAKES A CALL 


123 


evidently the woman whom he had first 
seen. 

“ A circus\ My, but that’s awful! A 
member er the Babson family connected 
with a travellin’ circus company! I wonder 
ye think er goin’ to him, an’ him in such a 
place! ” H 

“ Goin’ ter little Hi! ” cried the other 
Avoman, “an’ ye say that, an’ me his 
mother! Where could my little son be that 
I wouldn’t go to him? ” 

“ But a circus! ” gasped the other voice. 

“ Ye’re a mother, an’ have, or ought ter 
have, a mother’s heart. Tell me, could 
ye be parted from one er yer own chil- 
dren till ye’re wild ter see ’em, an’ stay 
away when ye learn where they are ? 
If ye could, then we’re different, that’s 
all! ” 

Jim heard firm steps approaching the 


124 


PRUE’S MERRY TIMES 


door, then a hand grasped the latch, when 
the other woman spoke again. 

An’ ye’re goin’ off with a stranger? 
Wal, I call that jest wild! ” 

‘‘ I must go to Hi, and go now, with who- 
ever will take me to him. I thank ye an’ 
the deacon fer all ye’ve done fer us, an’ 
’specially fer yer patience with me these 
last few months when I know I’ve been dull 
company. But now, why, I’m glad an’ gay! 
I’m going ter see little Hi! ” 

“ Well, ye know this roof’ll shelter ye, 
if ye come back with Hi.” 

“ I know it, an’ I’m thankful, but I feel 
as if somehow we can manage. Hi is earn- 
ing something, an’ maybe I can help, so I 
can stay by him.” 

‘‘ Why, ye’d have ter be in a circus, an’ 
ye well know the Babson family is—” but 
Hi’s mother would not stay to listen. 


JIM MAKES A CALL 


125 


Pushing open the door, she hurried to 
where Jim stood. 

“ Notv take me; I’ll go now, before they 
try to hinder me,” she said, and Jim, taking 
a firm hold on her arm, walked out with her, 
closed the door after them, and guided her 
down the path. He carried the leather bag 
that she had brought, and which contained 
all her worldly possessions. 

‘‘D’ye know when the stage goes down 
through the Centre,” Jim asked. 

“ It’ll pass us in a few minutes,” Mrs. 
Babson said. 

“ Then we’ll sit on this stone wall, an’ 
take it,” said Jim, “ ye ain’t no ways fit ter 
walk, an’ it’ll save some time, too.” 

They had not long to wait. The cracking 
of a long whip, a cloud of dust, and the 
rattling of wheels announced the arrival of 
the stage coach. 


126 


PRUE’S MERRY TIMES 


Jim signalled for it to stop, and the two 
were soon seated inside. Nervously she 
caught at Jim’s sleeve. 

‘‘ I ain’t been so happy fer one while! ” 
she said, with an odd catch in her voice. 

Jim laid his big hand over hers, and 
patted it. 

‘‘ An’ soon ye’ll be ’nough happier, the 
boy’ll be happy, an’ as fer me an’ Lottie, 
we’ll feel as if we got a sight er pleasure 
a- watching you an’ Hi.” 

The trip was a long one, and the old stage 
far from luxurious. Jim watched his com- 
panion closely, and was surprised to see 
that she seemed not to weary. 

“ Is it much farther? ” she asked. 

‘‘ Quite a piece,” Jim replied; “ are ye 
gettin’ tired? ” 

“ Oh, no! ” she cried, “ only wild ter see 
him.” 


JIM MAKES A CALL 


127 


“ He’ll be some s ’prised ter see ye ter- 
day,” Jim said, with a happy laugh, ‘‘ fer 
I didn’t say when I’d go ter ye. I jest 
promised him I would go soon.” 

Over the rough road the old stage rum- 
bled, swaying from side to side as it rode 
over big stones, or slipped into deep ruts 
that heavy teams had made. 

For a long time they rode in silence — 
the woman with eyes bright with anticipa- 
tion, the man tenderly watching her, be- 
cause she was the mother of his dear little 
friend. 

After what seemed an almost endless 
journey, Jim saw what he had been looking 
for,— the canvas tents and flying pennants 
of the circus! 

Mrs. Babson, looking straight ahead, saw 
only the sunny road and the blue sky over- 
head. Jim leaned toward her. 


128 


PRVE’S MERRY TIMES 


“ Look this way, ma’am, jest a little ter 
the right! ” 

She turned, saw what Jim pointed at, and 
clasped her hands tightly. 

“ Keep sort er calm! ” Jim urged. “Ye 
don’t want ter faint fer joy, an’ so scare 
the little feller.” 

“ I sha’n’t do that,” she said, “ I never 
fainted, whatever happened. I jest hope 
he’ll be in sight the minute we git out er 
this stage.” 

“We’ll stop at the side er the road,” 
said Jim, “an’ walk across the field ter the 
tents.” 

A few moments later he had helped her 
from the stage, and although her hands had 
trembled when they clasped his, she walked 
with firm tread, across the open field. 

“ The critters are fed an’ watered early, 
that’s why there ain’t nobody ’round, but 


JIM MAKES A CALL 


129 


the—” he never finished the sentence, for 
at that moment a little figure shot out from 
an opening in the tent, and rushing wildly 
across the field, flew into the wide-open 
arms of the woman who knelt upon the 
grass. Only a little, trembling cry from the 
mother, only a shrill cry from the boy, told 
of the wild joy that filled their hearts. 

Big, tender-hearted Jim drew the back of 
his hand across his eyes. 

“ Sun’s pretty bright,” he said, ‘‘ makes 
my eyes water.” 

Suddenly, like ants from an ant-hill, the 
circus people rushed out and surrounded 
them, and began plying Jim with questions. 

As suddenly, Pagington, the proprietor, 
stepped between the little group and the 
curious circus crowd. 

‘‘ Git back inter the tent! ” he cried. 
“ This ain’t no time fer talkin’ nor spy in’. 


130 


PRUE’S MERRY TIMES 


Find something ter do, an’ in good time I’ll 
introjuce ye ter a new member er my circus 
fam’ly.” 

They knew that he meant what he said, 
and quickly returned to the tent, to watch 
from crack and crevice the group that had 
made them so curious. 

“ Make ye ’quainted with Mis’ Babson,” 
said Jim, when, a bit calmer, she stood be- 
side him, with little Hi clinging to her hand. 

“ Pleased ter have ye with us,” the man 
replied, “ fer I guess the little lad will en- 
joy his work better if he has ye with him.” 

‘‘I’ll work hard ter pay my way if I can 
be with him,” she said, eagerly. 

“ I’ll deduct ’nough from his sal’ry ter 
pay yer board,” said Pagington, “ so all 
ye’ll have ter do will be ter look out fer him, 
an’ take a stitch now an’ then in the cos- 
tumes.” 


JIM MAKES A GALL 


131 


“ Why, what does my little Hi do ter 
earn ’nough fer that? ” she asked in aston- 
ishment. 

“ Ain’t ye told her? ” Pagington asked. 
Jim shook his head. 

“ Fow tell, httle feller,” he said. 

“ Ma, oh, ma! ” cried Hi, “I’m a rider, 
a star rider! ” 

“ A rider! ” she gasped, raising her 
hands and letting them fall, “ a rider! Did 
ye say that. Hi? ” 

“ One er the star performers, ma’am,” 
said Pagington, “an’ ye needn’t fear, fer 
he never takes a tumble, an’ the crowd is 
more interested in him, than any one else 
in the comp’ny.” 

Thus were the mother and little son 
united, the boy delighted that she was with 
him, the mother glad to live even in a circus 
tent, if only to be with her boy. 


132 


PRUE’8 MERRY TIMER 


So gentle, so kindly was she, that the 
circus people soon learned to love her, and 
she returned their regard when she found 
how truly they loved little Hi. 

“ There’s good in every one, Jim,” she 
said that night, “ an’ I wish the deacon, my 
brother-in-law, could know what warm, 
kind hearts the circus people have. You 
an’ your Lottie has meant all the world ter 
Hi, while he was learnin’, an’ waitin’ ter 
send fer me.” 

‘‘ She’s a rider, an’ I’m a drummer, an’ 
we’re ter be married in the spring, an’ you 
an’ Hi must stand up with us,” said Jim, 

“We’ll stay with the circus,” he added, 
“an’ at the weddin’ Hi shall be my little 
best man, an’ you shall act as mother ter 
both on us,” 

“ I will,” she said, as she took his hand. 

Great was her pride and wonder, when 


JIM MAKES A CALL 


133 


at the first performance, she saw Hi, her 
little Hi, enter the ring on Brown Bess, and 
gracefully pose and ride with daring and 
skill! 

She hardly dared breathe as she watched 
him, but she soon saw that, young though 
he was, he was both master of his horse, 
and himself. 

It was a strange life for a woman born 
and reared on the New Hampshire hills, 
accustomed to life in a quiet country vil- 
lage, with its narrow prejudices and lack of 
excitement. 

She was so glad to be with Hi, and to be 
independent, that she soon felt happy; and 
if not quite at home in her new surround- 
ings, she was surely content. 

She knew that she had been given a home 
at Deacon Babson’s only because, as she 
was destitute, he feared the censure of his 


134 


PRUE’S MERRY TIMES 


neighbors. She had been keenly aware that 
her presence was unwelcome in the home. 

Here, circus people though they were, 
they welcomed her, told her their little 
trials, asked her advice, gave her kind 
words, and cheered her always. She felt 
that she and Hi were members of a large 
family, and that they were truly welcome. 

She Was both cheerful and content. And 
when, after some weeks had passed, she 
wrote to Deacon Babson, telling him of her- 
self and little Hi, the letter was read to 
every one who happened to call, and like 
wild-fire, the news spread through the vil- 
lage. 

“ J’ined the circus! ” said Joel Simpkins. 
“ Wal, I do vaow! Ain’t that the great- 
est! ” 

J fined the circus! ” said Mrs. Hodg- 
kins. Ef that ain’t the beater-ee! ” 


JIM MAKES A CALL 


135 


Then each village gossip added a bit to 
the story, and in a week’s time it had gained 
in size, until, if Hi and his mother could 
have heard it, they would have been aston- 
ished. 

“ He’s the best rider in the hull troupe 
they say, an’ he has a ^re-menjous sal’ry! ” 
declared a young farmer, in Barnes’s store, 
to a group of idlors who eagerly listened, 
wide-eyed and open-mouthed. 

“ I want ter know! ” said the man who 
stood beside him. 

‘‘ His ma saves the money he earns, an’ 
in time they’ll be rich,” said old Nate 
Burnham, ‘‘an’ if they he, they may 
come back here, an’ buy a fine place 
that’ll beat the old Babson place all hol- 
ler! ” 

“ Guess they won’t get as rich as that 
out’n a country circus! ” said Silas Barnes, 


136 


PRUE’S MERRY TIMES 


“ but if they’re just comfortable, I’m glad 
ou’t.” 

“ Deacon Babson, an’ his wife, an’ daugh- 
ter, Jemimy, is all stirred up about it,” said 
Jabez Brimblecom, “ but his other daugh- 
ter Belindy is tur’ble tickled with the idee. 
She says Hi is a perfeshional naow, an’ 
when her pa don’t like that, Belinda says: 

“ ‘ Oh, pshaw! What’s the use er makin’ 
such a fuss ’bout it. If I was a boy, ’stead 
of a gal, I know I’d rather j’ine a circus 
than be a farmer, any day.’ ” 


CHAPTER VIII 

WHAT AGATHA HEARD 

“PRUE hurried along the road to school 
one morning, her books under one 
arm, and an umbrella in her hand. 

Often she looked up at the sky where 
gray clouds were floating. 

“ I don’t b’lieve it’s going to rain,” she 
said, “ and if it doesn’t, I’ve brought this 
umbrella for nothing. Why did Philury 
make me take it? ” 

Carlie Shelton, running along the road, 
saw Prue just ahead of her. 

“ Prue! Prue! Prue Weston! ” she cried, 
“ wait for me! ” 

137 


138 


PRUE’S MERRY TIMES 


Prue knew the voice, and gladly turned 
to greet her. 

She waved her hand to Carlie, and then 
sat down upon the wall to wait for her. 

Let’s sit here a few minutes,” said Car- 
lie, ‘‘ we’re early, and I want to tell you 
something. You know Hi Babson is in the 
circus now? ” 

<< Why, of course I do,” said Prue, “ and 
everybody thinks it’s awful, but I think it 
must be lovely to have a handsome horse, 
and ride it, all dressed in spangles, and tin- 
sel, and lace. Don’t you? ” 

‘‘ Oh, yes,” said Carlie, “ and that’s what 
makes me wonder why all the folks are 
fussing so about it. It’s the grown up peo- 
ple that say it’s so horrid to b’long to a 
circus. The children all think it is fine! 
Johnny Buffum says he wouldn’t want to 
be in a circus, because he says he’s ’fraid 


WHAT AGATHA HEARD 139 

it’s hard work. Bob Eushton says he 
knows it is, and he won’t ever run away to 
join one, but he says when he’s a big man, 
he means to own a circus, so he can go to 
every performance, and not have to pay for 
his tickets. Mrs. Eushton and my mamma 
laughed when he said that, and Bob’s 
cheeks got very red, but he told me he 
meant what he said. He’s going to have 
lots of animals, much as twenty elephants, 
perhaps, and he’s going to let all of us he 
went to school with in free! IsnH Bob fine 
to think of that? ” 

“ Johnny Buffum says he means to he a 
fat man like Mr. Bowers, and he’s going to 
be a dancing teacher. He doesn’t dance as 
if he over could teach it, but perhaps he’ll 
do it beautifully before the whole winter is 
gone,” said Prue, hopefully. 

“ Well, I s’pose we’ll have to walk 


140 


PRUE’S MERRY TIMES 


along,” said Carlie, picking up her books, 
“ but I’ll tell you one thing, and that is that 
you couldn’t guess what Jeremy Griff ord 
wants to be! ” 

‘‘ Oh, I couldn’t guess,” said Prue, “ you 
tell me.” 

Carlie laughed, and who wouldn’t have 
laughed at Jeremy’s ambition? Carlie 
came closer, and looked into Prue’s merry 
eyes. 

Jeremy wants to run an engine on the 
railroad. Guess why? ” said Carlie, laugh- 
ing. 

Prue, thinking of Bob’s reason for wish- 
ing to own a circus, thought possibly Jer- 
emy had a similar idea. 

‘‘So he won’t have to pay fares? ” she 
asked. 

“No, no! said Carlie. “ He wants to 
be an engineer, so he won’t ever have to 


WHAT AGATHA HEARD 


141 


wash Ms face and hands. He says he’s no- 
ticed that they never have clean faces. 
Isn’t he awful? ” 

“ Horrid! ” said Prue, “ but maybe he 
was joking.” 

“ No, he wasn’t,” said Carlie, ‘‘ he meant 
it.” 

“ Well, he did say the other day that the 
worst thing ’bout going to dancing school, 
was getting ready, and perhaps that’s what 
he meant,” said Prue. 

Agatha Ware ran to meet them at the 
next corner, and the three walked along 
together. 

“ See the pretty bag Aunt Nabby made 
for me,” said Agatha, “ and see the red 
lining. It’s to carry my books in.” 

Prue and Carlie admired the bag, and 
then, as they came in sight of the school- 
house, Agatha, in a whisper, said: 


142 


PBVE’S MERBY TIMES 


“Wait a minute while I tell you some- 
thing! ” 

They stopped, and drew closer to Agatha, 
for they saw that she had something inter- 
esting to tell. 

“You know the Butley twins? ” said 
Agatha. 

“ I guess we do,'” said Prue and Carlie, 
in one breath. 

“ Well, Joe and Job were sitting on the 
stone wall in front of our house last night, 
and Aunt Nabby said they made her nerv- 
ous. She said that they weren’t sitting 
there all that time, and talking about noth- 
ing. She said she b’lieved they were 
planning to rob her apple orchard, and 
for me to open the door softly, and 
see if I could hear what they were say- 
ing.” 

“ And did you? ” Carlie asked. 


WHAT AGATHA HEARD 


143 


Yes, and what do you think? They 
weren’t saying a word about Aunt Nabby’s 
orchard. They were talking about the 
schoolhouse,” said Agatha, and then, low- 
ering her voice to a whisper, she said: 

“ Don’t you tell if I tell you.” 

“We never’U tell! ” they said. 

“ They said that the schoolhouse was 
going to burn down, and that they were 
glad of it, because then they wouldn’t have 
to go to school! ” 

“ Why-ee! ” gasped Prue, “ are you sure 
they said that? ” 

“ They spoke low, hut I heard them just 
as plain as plain could be,” said Agatha, 
“ and they did truly say it was going to 
hum! ” 

“ Did they say when? ” asked Car lie. 

“ I didn’t hear them say when,” said 
Agatha, “ because when I’d heard that. 


144 


PRUE’S MERRY TIMES 


Aunt Nabby called me in to ask if tbey were 
talking about her apple orchard. 

“ I told her they were talking about the 
schoolhouse, but I didn’t dare tell her they 
said it would burn, because she knows 
Mr, Butley, and he whips Joe and Job 
every time they’re naughty,” Agatha said, 
‘‘ and Aunt Nabby would surely tell Mr. 
Butley.” 

“ But what’s naughty ’bout knowing 
that it’s going to bum? ” Prue asked. 
‘‘ Knowing it, isn’t same’s turning it,” 

“ But how do they know ’bout it, if they 
aren’t going to burn it? ” said Agatha, 
and Prue and Carlie looked at her in hor- 
ror. 

“ They tvouldnH be as bad as that, would 
they? ” said Prue. 

Why not? ” said Agatha, “ They un- 
tied Deacon Stilkins’s horse, and chased 



“ Don’t you tell, if I tell you.” — Page 143 



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WHAT AGATHA HEARD 


145 


her over to the Four Corners, didn’t 
they? ” 

“ Mm, and that was naughty,” said 
Prue, “ ’specially as they tied an old broom 
to her tail, and scared her ’most out of her 
senses.” 

“ Well, who was it that marched down 
the middle of the road to the ‘ Square, ’ and 
back at half-past ’leven one night, banging 
on a tin pan, and tooting on a fish horn, and 
knocking at every door they passed? ” Ag- 
atha asked. 

“ Oh, everybody knows that was the But- 
ley boys,” said Prue, “ but that wasn’t 
burning things.” 

“ Somebody set fire to Josiah Boyden’s 
haystacks,” said Carlie, “ and Josiah 
thinks it was Joe and Job.” 

’Tisn’t fair to say they did it, unless 
he’s sure,” said Prue. 


146 


PRUE’S MERRY TIMES 


Dear little girl! She was always just. 

“ Well, here we are at the schoolhouse 
gate,” said Agatha, “ and you remember 
that I didn’t say they’d do it, I only told 
you what I heard them say, and you mustn’t 
tell.” 

Prue and Carlie promised to keep the 
secret, and just then the bell rang, and they 
hurried in. 

The three little girls tried to keep their 
minds upon their lessons, but Agatha 
often realized that she was watching the 
Butley twins, while Pi*ue and Carlie, 
who sat side by side, kept looking that 
way. 

The twins seemed wholly unaware that 
they were being watched. They were un- 
usually quiet. 

Joe held his geography very close to his 
eyes, while Job, with slate and pencil, 


WEAT AGATHA HEARD 


147 


seemed to be thinking of nothing but his 
arithmetic. 

Indeed, it was. surprising to see the But- 
ley twins occupied with anything but mis- 
chief. 

“ What’s the matter with Joe and Job,” 
whispered Tom Thompson; “ them fellers 
is awful quiet.” 

Jeremy Gifford giggled. 

“ Them fellers! ” he said. “ Them fel- 
lers ain’t good grammar.” 

“ P’raps ainH is good grammar,” Tom 
retorted, angrily, “ but I don’t b’lieve it 
is.” 

The morning passed quietly, and when 
recess time came, nothing rmusual had hap- 
pened. 

The boys were having an exciting foot- 
ball game, while the girls played “ London 
Bridge,” “ Tag,” and “ Snap the Whip.” 


148 


PRUE’S MERRY TIMES 


It was when they were “ filing in ” that 
Prue whispered to Agatha: 

‘‘ Do you s’pose you didn’t hear just 
right? ” 

“ Oh, I truly heard what they said, but 
they didn’t say when it would happen! ” 

Although it was early in the term, the 
breeze was cold, and as the windows had 
been open during recess. Miss Penfield 
asked Tom Thompson to close them. 

Joe and Job exchanged glances, but see- 
ing that Prue was looking at them, they re- 
sumed study. 

Miss Penfield wondered why they were 
so strangely studious. 

She decided to watch them, but they ap- 
peared not to notice that she did so, and 
continued to keep their eyes upon their 
books. 

The schoolhouse was poorly built, and the 


WHAT AGATHA HEARD 


149 


old-fashioned stove only half-heated the 
big, bare room. The windows had been 
closed but a few minutes when Miss Pen- 
field left her desk to look at the drafts in 
the stove. 

“ Please, Miss Penfield, I fixed the 
drafts,” said Tom Thompson. 

“ They appear to be all right,” she re- 
plied, “ but the room seems smoky.” 

“ Smoky! ” whispered Prue, and her 
dimpled cheeks flushed, and then turned 
pale. 

“ Smoky! ” whispered Agatha. ‘‘ Didn’t 
I tell you? ” 

“ Open the windows,” said the teacher, 
to Tom Thompson, “ and any pupils who 
wish may get their wraps. It is a cold wind 
that blows in.” 

She took her long cloak from its peg, and 
wrapped it about her. The boys declared 


150 


PBUE’8 MERRY TIMES 


that they were warm enough, but several 
of the girls had left their seats, inteudiug 
to get garments to protect them from the 
shrill breeze, when a shriek made them 
turn, and look back. 

“ Teacher! teacher! There’s smoke 
cornin’ up through the cracks in the floor! ” 
cried Jeremy Gifford. 

Then all was excitement. 

It was in vain that Miss Penfield en- 
deavored to calm them, that they might 
leave the building in an orderly man- 
ner. 

They pushed and crowded through the 
narrow doorway, each determined to be the 
first one out. 

There were hoarse cries from the boys, 
and frightened shrieks from the girls, and 
just when the excitement was greatest, 
Johnny Buffum, although one of the small- 


WHAT AGATHA HEARD 151 


est boys, showed himself to be the most 
manly of them all. 

Running to a window, he looked out. 
Hurrying back to where Prue was vainly 
trying to get out, he caught hold of 
her hand, and dragged her back with 
him. 

“ Oh, Johnny! Let me get out! ” she 
cried, her white lips trembling. 

“I’m goin’ ter, but I know a quicker 
way. Come over ter this window. I’ll get 
out first, and then you hand me a chair. I’ll 
hold the chair firm, till you step on to it,” 
he said. 

“ Oh, I’m ’fraid; it’s so far to the 
ground! ” she cried. 

“ It’ll be only half as far ter the chair,” 
said Johnny, “ and I’ll help you. Come! 
The smoke’s gettin’ thicker! ” 

She looked back. She could not see 


152 


PRUE’8 MERRY TIMES 


across the room, and she grasped Johnny’s 
hand. 

“ I’ll go!” she said. “ Oh, hurry! ” 

Johnny climbed out of the window, and 
then took the chair that Prue handed him. 
It took all her strength, aided by her ter- 
ror, to enable her to lift it to the window 
sill. 

“ Pitch it out! ” cried Johnny, and Prue 
did as he directed. 

In a moment he had helped her out, and 
down to the ground. 

“ Oh, Johnny, you were dear! ” she said, 
and he felt truly rewarded. 

“ Say! ” squealed a voice from the win- 
dow, “ you just hold that chair for Sophy, 
and Tommy, and me. We’re your own sis- 
ters! ” 

“ Tommy ain’t my sister,” said Johnny, 
as he helped Hitty down. 


WHAT AGATHA HEARD 


153 


“ Well, he’s your brother, and that’s just 
the same,” said little Ann. 

They did not stop to talk, but ran wildly 
out into the road and across into a field, 
that they might be far enough from the 
building, and yet watch the fire. The smoke 
was pouring from the windows, but they 
were all out of the building now. 

“ Don’t venture any nearer,” cried Miss 
Penfield, '‘I’m going over to Mr. Boy- 
den’s,” and they saw her run down the 
road. 

“I’ll go down ter Barnes’s, an’ tell him 
ter git the fire injine out! ” cried Tom 
Thompson, and he sped in the opposite 
direction, taking a short cut across the 
fields. 

It was very exciting to see the old-fash- 
ioned engine coming up the road, followed 
by the hook and ladder! 


154 


PRUE’S MERRY TIMES 


Johnny Buffum wondered if, after all, a 
big fireman were not mightier than a dan- 
cing-master. 

The boys crowded around the engine, and 
were driven back and obliged to watch from 
a distance, the quenching of the fire, or 
rather smoke, for no flames had yet ap- 
peared. 

Smoke still poured from door and win- 
dows, and many were the wild guesses as 
to where, and how it started. 

Agatha, Prue, and Carlie did not wonder. 
They felt that they knew! It was quick 
work, and when the firemen left, the boys, 
regardless of the dripping woodwork, went 
into the old schoolhouse to see how it 
looked after its drenching. 

“I’ll bet we can’t go ter school fer half 
the winter! ” said Jeremy Gifford, and he 
danced a wild jig to show his delight. 


WHAT AGATHA HEARD 155 

“No such luck!” cried Bob Rush- 
ton. 

“ They’ll fix it up in a week, you see ’f 
they don’t,” said Tom Thompson. 

“ Old Josiah Boyden hates boys so, he’d 
give the money, stingy as he is, if he could 
hustle us back ter school.” 

“ I like to go to school,” cried little Prue, 
“ and I don’t care how soon they fix the 
sehoolhouse.” 

“ I like to go ’cause Prue does! ” 
said Johnny, and the big boys laughed at 
him. 

“ Pretty sweet on Prue,” said Tom 
Thompson, not dreaming that Johnny 
would dare to reply. 

“ ’Most as sweet on Prue as you are on 
Merilla,” snapped Johnny, and then, as the 
whole crowd laughed at him, Tom’s cheeks 
became very red. 


156 


PRUE’S MERRY TIMES 


‘‘ Well, we might as well go home now 
the fire’s out,” said Hitty, and the boys and 
girls, as with one accord, walked, skipped, 
or ran along the road. 


CHAPTER IX 

THE LITTLE TRAVELLER 

r lIHE next morning a notice was put up 
on the schoolhouse door, and another 
on the trunk of the old willow tree in the 
square. 

They stated that there would be no school 
until money could be raised, and the build- 
ing put in order, and that another notice 
would be posted when the lessons would 
be resumed. 

The children crowded around the old wil- 
low tree, and read and re-read the notice. 

“ I hope they won’t hurry,” said Jeremy 
Gifford; “ they needn’t on my account.” 


157 


158 


PRUE’S MERRY TIMES 


“ Ye’re a lucky crowd over here,” said a 
small boy who had been coming from the 
Four Corners to school. ‘‘Ye’re lucky! ” 

“ No luckier than you,” cried Bob Rush- 
ton. 

“No luckier than me! ” said the other 
boy in disgust. “ Well, jest wait ’til I tell 
ye! The minute the schoolhouse got burnt, 
the school committee over ter the Four Cor- 
ners took an’ hired the little hall where 
folks have concerts in the winter, and 
we’ve got ter go ter school over there till 
your old schoolhouse is ready! ” 

“ Oh, d’ye s’pose they’ll be doing that 
over here? ” Jeremy asked. 

“ Of course not, goosey! Can’t ye read 
the notice? Don’t it say we can’t go till the 
building is repaired? ” questioned Tom 
Thompson. 

“ Oh, but if they should change their 


THE LITTLE TRAVELLER 159 


minds, they might make us go to the engine 
house, if they couldn’t find any other 
place! ” wailed Jeremy. 

Nothing of the sort happened, however, 
and the children were delighted with their 
vacation that commenced so soon after 
school had opened. 

There was no urging necessary to insure 
a full class at the dancing school. 

. Little Mr. Bowers was very happy. He 
had worked hard to learn the art, had given 
hours of practising to perfect his manner 
of dancing, and now he was receiving re- 
ward for his effort. 

All his pupils liked him, and strove to 
dance with elegance and grace. 

They followed his instruction to the let- 
ter, and believed that he knew all that there 
was to know about dancing. 

On the Saturday following the closing of 


160 


PBUE’S MERRY TIMES 


the schoolhouse, the pupils arrived at the 
hall very early. 

Prue, looking very sweet in a simple 
white frock, with blue ribbons, stood talk- 
ing with Carlie Shelton and Bob Rushton. 

Hitty Buffum and Agatha "Ware stood 
near them, and Johnny, who was a bit later, 
came running to join the group. 

He listened to what they had to say, but 
tried, at the same time, to hear what Prue 
was talking about. He wished that he 
could have been near her, but there was not 
room enough to crowd in. 

There was a lull in Hitty ’s chatter, and a 
part of a sentence came clearly to Johnny’s 
ears. 

“ And so, as there’s to be no school, 
Randy and Ma think I’d better go to Bos- 
ton for the visit, instead of going later, 
after school has begun again. Randy says 


THE LITTLE TRAVELLER 161 


it’s a lovely time to see Boston, and I’m 
wild to go, because, — ” 

Some one near Prue commenced to talk, 
and Johnny could not hear why little Prue 
was wild to go. 

He thrust his hands into his pockets, and 
swallowed hard. It had been bad enough 
to know that she was ever to go away for a 
visit, but it was, indeed, hard to hear that 
she was going even sooner than had been 
planned. 

Bob Rushton had asked her for the first 
dance, and Jeremy Gifford had demanded 
the next two, so it was not until the fourth 
number that Johnny could speak to her. 
He felt that he must ask her, 

“ Are ye going ter Boston soon? ” he 
asked anxiously, 

“ Next week! ” said Prue, her brown 
eyes shining with excitement, “ and this is 


162 


PRUE’S MERRY TIMES 


Saturday. We’re going Wednesday, and 
don’t it seem a long time till then? ” 

“It’s so soon it ’most takes my breath 
away,” said Johnny. 

At that moment Jeremy Gifford, who 
was dancing with Hitty, collided with 
Johnny and Prue. 

“ S’cuse me,” said Jeremy, “ I didn’t see 
ye coming,” and with greater speed he flew 
with Hitty down the hall. 

“ He’s put me out,” declared Johnny,. 
“ I always have ter count every minute, 
and when he run into us, I was counting for 
dear life. Now, we’ll have ter start again.” 

The music ceased, and the boys led their 
partners to seats. 

“ Hitty made me give the next dance to 
her, but I’ll sit here, and talk to you until 
then,” said Johnny, but he could not even 
have that pleasure, because Bob Rushton 


THE LITTLE TRAVELLER 163 


and Carlie Shelton stood near her, and kept 
her busy answering questions about her 
trip to Boston. 

“I’ll walk home with yer, Prue,” he 
said, as he left her to go to Hitty, “ and 
will ye go the long way across the brook? ” 

She nodded, and soon they were again 
dancing. 

It was a merry afternoon for all save 
Johnny. 

Mr. Bowers was even more cheery than 
usual, and often the sound of rippling 
laughter made itself heard over the tinkle 
of the old piano. Johnny tried to be as gay 
as the others. He had a kind little heart, 
and he did not wish to seem dull, or to mar 
their pleasure, but he could not feel very 
cheery with the thought of Prue away. 

It was not that he could not bear the 
three weeks that she would spend in Bos- 


164 


PRUE’S MERRY TIMES 


ton. It was the fear that those city boys 
and girls would make her playmates in the 
village seem woefully commonplace. 

He was not a success as a dancer, and he 
had little idea of time, but to-day he did 
worse than usual. 

“ Your feet keep tripping me up,” said 
Hitty, or else they step on my toes.” 

“ Oh, Hitty, I’m doing the best I can! ” 
cried Johnny, who felt as if everything 
went wrong. 

“ Well, I didn’t mean to scold, only my 
new shoes are tight, and I ’most can’t bear 
to have my toes touched,” said Hitty. 

And when the little pupils left the hall, 
Johnny was slow to find Prue’s coat, and 
hunted for his cap until it seemed as, if he 
never would find it. 

When at last they were ready, and ran 
down the steps to the street, the other chil- 


THE LITTLE TRAVELLER 165 


dren were out of sight. That was just what 
Johnny had hoped for. 

Come across to Barnes’s,” he said, 
“ and we’ll get some candy.” 

He allowed her to choose, and what a 
funny choice she made. 

Johnny gave her a dime, and she thanked 
him, sweetly. 

She chose three pink peppermints, three 
white ones, a big candy hall, a chocolate 
mouse, and two big green pickles. 

“ How,” said Johnny, “ we’ll go across 
the brook and down the little path to the 
road.” 

Prue made no reply. She was very busy 
eating the head of the chocolate mouse. 

“ When ye’re in Boston, Prue, ye 
mustn’t forget us here in the village,” he 
said. 

“ Of course not,” said Prue, “ now the 


166 


PRUE’8 MERRY TIMES 


mouse hasn’t any head. I guess I’ll eat his 
tail next, then there’ll still be ’most all of 
him left.” 

“Is it true there’s ter be a party while 
ye’re there? ” Johnny asked, anxiously. 

“ Yes, and it’s to be given for me,” said 
Prue. “ Don’t you remember the little girl, 
Clare Harden, who came up here last sum- 
mer? ” 

Yes, Johnny remembered. 

“ Well, you know, my sister Randy gave 
a party for her when she was here, and now 
Mrs. Helen Dayton Harden is to give one 
for me,” said Prue. 

“ I do wish I was going to be there,” said 
Johnny, “ do you? ” 

Prue took a dainty bite from the tip of 
the chocolate mouse’s tail, and then she an- 
swered. 

“ How, Johnny,” she said, “I’m going 


TEE LITTLE TRAVELLER 167 


to the city to see things that are new. I 
mean things I haven’t seen before. Now 
if you were to be there, you wouldn’t be 
’cause I’ve always played with you. I 
guess it’ll be nice to see boys and girls I 
haven’t always seen.” 

“Why, Prue! ” cried Johnny, and his 
voice told that he was grieved. 

“ Now, Johnny,” said Prue, “ don’t you 
feel badly. I like every one of my play- 
mates here, hut it’s just the change, don’t 
you see? ” 

Johnny didn’t see it that way at all. 

“ But I don’t wish I could be at the party 
ter see the little city girls,” he said, “ for 
I know I’d rather see you than any of 
them.” 

“ Well, that’s dif event,” said Prue. 
They had reached the brook, and Johnny 
insisted upon helping her across. 


168 


PRUE’S MERRY TIMES 


It was a shallow stream, and Prue, when 
alone, skipped across it very easily, step- 
ping upon the stones that rise above its 
surface. Johnny liked to help her, how- 
ever, and Prue accepted his attention as if 
she had been a little queen, and he a loyal 
courtier. 

Across the meadows, and up the 
road they trudged, Prue enjoying the 
treat, and Johnny happy in watching 
her. 

She had urged him to share it, but he had 
stoutly refused. 

“ I bought it all for you,” he said, ‘‘ and 
I like to see ye eating it.” 

At the gate he asked a question. 

Ye’ll go if it’s pleasant,” he said, “ but 
ye won’t go if it rains, will ye? ” 

Oh, yes,” said Prue, cheerfully, “ I 
asked Randy that, and she said we should 


THE LITTLE TRAVELLER 169 

go rain or shine, because the day is set and 
Mrs. Harden is expecting us.” 

“ 0 dear! ” sighed Johnny, ‘‘I’ve been 
praying for rain every night, but as long as 
you’ll go anyway, I might as well stop.” 

“You can’t go with us,” Prue said, with 
a sunny smile, “ but I’ll let you come down, 
and see us off.” 

Johnny felt that to be a doubtful joy, 
but he promised to be there, and turned 
toward home, wondering what he could 
give her that would add pleasure to the long 
ride in the cars. The days flew by, and 
Wednesday dawned, bright and sunny. 

Randy, looking very lovely in a suit of 
dark blue, and a gray hat with heavy 
plumes, stood with Prue upon the platform, 
awaiting the train. 

Prue in a soft gray cloak, and white felt 
hat with white feathers, looked very fair. 


170 


PRUE’S MERRY TIMES 


and her little feet tapped the platform im- 
patiently as she wondered if the train 
would ever come. 

Jotham laughed at her excitement, and 
tweaked one of her curls. He was Randy’s 
husband, but he always felt as if Prue were 
his own little sister. Mr. Weston, with his 
wife, had driven over to the station to bring 
Prue, and now remained with them, so that 
it seemed quite like a family party. In her 
delight, Prue had forgotten Johnny, but he 
had not forgotten her. Just before the 
train arrived, he rushed up to Prue, ap- 
pearing from somewhere up the road, and 
landing on the platform in breathless haste. 

“ Here’s something purpose fer you,” he 
said, “ and don’t look at it till ye’re in the 
cars.” 

“ Oh, Johnny,” she cried, “ you are 
good! ” 


THE LITTLE TRAVELLER 171 


Before Johnny could reply the engine 
appeared around the bend, and drew up at 
the station, and the long line of cars looked 
to Johnny as if they were each waiting for 
little Prue. 

“ Good-bye! Gnod-bye! ” she cried, as 
she ran up the steps, and flew into the flrst 
car. 

Climbing into a seat she peeped out of the 
window, holding up the parcel that Johnny 
might see that she had it. She waved her 
hand to him, the train started, and then— 
but Johnny, seeing Jeremy Gifford ap- 
proaching, rushed from the platform, and 
around behind the station, where, if he 
wiped his eyes there was no one to question, 
or tease him. Jeremy wondered at his 
hasty disappearance, but he did not follow 
him. 

And Prue? It was her first long ride in 


172 


PRUE’S MERRY TIMES 


the cars, and the novelty dehghted her. 
She watched the flying scenery, and 
Johnny’s parcel slipped from her lap to the 
floor. She recovered it, and clunbed back 
on the seat, and untied the string that fast- 
ened it. 

“ Oh, see what it says on it,” she cried, 
holding it for Randy to see. 

In huge letters, Johnny had boldly writ- 
ten: 

“ When this you see, 

Remember me.” 

She opened the package, and found a 
book with gaudily colored pictures. “ The 
Fair One with Golden Locks.” 

“ That must be a nice story,” she said. 
“ See the lovely girl with a red gown, and 
yellow curls almost down to her knees! ” 

Randy duly admired the young woman 
with the abundant buttercup-colored hair. 


THE LITTLE TRAVELLER 173 

The long ride tired Randy, but Prue en- 
joyed every hour of it, and she could not 
understand why Randy lay back, and for a 
few moments closed her eyes. 

“ Are you going to sleep"? ” she asked. 

“ Oh, no, only I’m a hit tired of looking 
at the objects that seem flying past the win- 
dow,” Randy replied. 

“ Why, I love to see ’em fly! ” cried 
Prue. “ It wouldn’t be half the fun if they 
went slower.” 

She was exceedingly busy during the 
long trip to the city. 

She read the book that Johnny had given 
her, five times, and then opened it again to 
look at the pictures. She could not have 
told how many times she took off her coat 
and hat, and put them on again. 

She ate all the candy in the lovely box 
that Jotham had given her, and tired Randy 


174 


PRUE’S MERRY TIMES 


began to wonder if there was anything that 
she did not do, before they reached Boston. 

Mrs. Harden had promised to send her 
carriage for them, but she did more. She 
rode to the station to meet them, saying 
that she could not wait at home quietly, to 
greet them when they arrived. 

Prue was the first to see the handsome 
face looking from the carriage window. 

“ WeVe come! We’ve come! ” she cried, 
as she flew in at the open door, astonishing 
the footman who stood like a statue beside 
it. 

“ You have, indeed come, dear little 
Prue,” said Mrs. Harden, “ and here is 
sweet Randy! Oh, how glad I am to have 
you with me! ” 

The footman closed the carriage door, 
climbed up beside the coachman, and the 
merry party were oft through the city 


THE LITTLE TRAVELLER 175 


streets where the store windows were 
ablaze with light. 

Randy had spent a winter in Boston, but 
it was all new to little Prue. 

Her eyes grew very round as she saw the 
people flitting this way and that, and at last 
she spoke. 

“ Where are they all going? ” she asked. 
“ And why are they in such a hurry? Is 
the circus just coming, or are they all going 
to dancing school? ” 

They found it difficult to convince her 
that the streets of a great city are always 
thus flUed with hurrying throngs. 


CHAPTER X 

THE VISIT 

T3RHE had been away from the village 
a week, and her little friends felt as 
if it must be much longer since they had 
seen her. 

Of all her playmates, the little Buffums 
felt most lonely without her. Hitty felt ab- 
solutely deserted! 

‘‘ Just think,” she wailed one morning, 
“ Prue’s gone Vay off to Boston, and I 
haven’t any one to play with! ” 

“ Where’s Sophy and Ann? ” Mrs. Buf- 
fum asked, “ I shouldn’t think with two 
little sisters and a brother, ye was reelly 
alone.’’ 


176 


THE VISIT 


177 


“ Johnny’s whittling down behind the 
barn, and he won’t talk at all. He don’t 
seem like my brother Johnny. Sophy don’t 
want to play with the dolls, and Ann is 
making pictures on her slate, and won’t 
stop, so I’ve no one to play with. I want 
to make doll’s clothes.” 

“ Then, fer mercy’s sake, why don’t ye 
make ’em? ” questioned Mrs. Buffum in 
surprise. 

“ If Prue was here, we’d sit and sew to- 
gether,” said Hitty. “ ’Tisn’t any fun to 
sew alone.” 

“ Wal, wal, has the hull neighborhood 
gone ter pieces because little Prue Wes- 
ton’s away on a visit? When I went out ter 
the well this morning ter draw some water, 
there stood Phonie Jenks, looking as if she 
thought er Jumpin’ in. When I asked her 
what made her look so glum, she said: 


178 


PRUE’8 MERRY TIMES 


“ ‘ Nothin’ much, hut I’d like ter know 
when Prue’s cornin’ hack.’ ” 

‘‘ Well, ’tis horrid without her,” said 
Hitty, “ and only one week is gone, and she 
going to stay three.” 

Mrs. Buffmn found some bright pieces of 
flowered calico, and Hitty, because she 
must in some way he amused, sat down in 
her little chair by the window, and began 
to sew. 

She decided to make a party gown for 
her little doU, Floribel, but she felt sure 
that calico was not flne enough for the pur- 
pose. 

She thought a white gown would he 
pretty, so she made the frock from white 
cotton cloth, and cutting the pink roses 
from the calico, sewed them around 
the bottom of the skirt for a flower 
border. 


THE VISIT 


179 


She felt more cheerful with her little 
hands occupied, and the new frock was al- 
most completed when a loud “ Whaow! ” 
made her look up. Deacon StUkins was 
climbing down from his wagon. 

All the boys and girls liked Deacon Stil- 
kins. To be sure he did not approve of Mr. 
Bowers and the dancing school, but he was 
a dear, kindly old man, who took an interest 
in their sports, and seemed like “ one of us 
feUers,” Johnny often said. 

Hitty ran to the door, opening it wide, 
and smiling a welcome. 

“ I can’t stop to come in,” he said, “ but 
I was down ter the Centre, an’ I took my 
letters, an’ brought along a batch fer your 
folks. There’s one fer you, Hitty, ’mongst 
them.” 

“ One for mef ” cried Hitty. “ Oh, 
where is it? Which is it? ” 


180 


PRUE’S MERRY TIMES 


The deacon laughed at her excite- 
ment. 

‘‘ There ’tis,” he said, pointing to a little 
pink envelope, “an’ I hope it’s a good 
one.” 

“ It’s the first letter I ever had,” 
said Hitty, “ and I can’t think who wrote 
it.” 

“ The postmark says ‘ Boston,’ naow can 
ye guess'? ” the deacon asked, with twink- 
ling eyes. 

“ Do you s’pose it’s from Prue? ” said 
Hitty. 

“ Shouldn’t wonder if ’twas,” said the 
deacon, and he went down the walk, smiling 
as he thought of Hitty ’s pleasure, and glad 
to have been the one to bring the little let- 
ter. 

Hitty seated herself again at the window, 
and opened the envelope. 


THE VISIT 


181 


‘‘Dear Hitty: — 

“ I must tell you ’bout Boston. This 
house is big and hansum. The floors dont 
have any carpets, only mats, but they are 
so big they almost cover the floors. Theres 
pictures as big as the side of our woodshed 
hanging on to the walls, an big tall images, 
no, status, Randy says, an the chairs are 
yellow satin, an everybody’s dressed up all 
the time. 

“ The butler wares a hi collar an brass 
buttons. He holds his chin up. I ran down 
to the door this morning, and he opend it. 
I askt him if his neck wouldn’t let him look 
down, he sed his dignty wudn’t. I done 
what he ment. 

“We went to some big stores, much as 
hundred times as big as Silas Barneses. 
Folks don’t go up stares in stores. They 
get in elevaturs, like little cages, an then fly 


182 


PRUE’S MERRY TIMES 


up. We went to churcli Sunday. It was 
as big as the hoi square at the Centre, 
an the orgim was as big as Barneses 
store. 

“ The streets are so full that it seems as 
if every one was going to the circus, cause 
they are all in a hurry. You an Johnny ort 
to see Boston. Its all so lovly I don’t no 
what I like best. Randy says come and let 
me dress you as were going sum where but 
Ive forgot where, so good-by. 

“ Yor Little frend, 

“ Prue.” 

‘‘ Oh, what a fine time she’s having! ” 
sighed Hitty. “I’m glad she could go to 
Boston, but I can’t help wishing I could go, 
too.” 

She ran off to find Johnny, and share the 
letter with him. 

She read it to Johnny, who enjoyed it. 



“Oh, what a fine time she’s having! ” 


SIGHED Hitty. — Page 182 


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TEE VISIT 


183 


but after listening to it twice, and reading 
it once for himself he said: “I’m glad she 
wrote ter yer, but I don’t see why she 
hasn’t wrote ter me” 

Hitty read it to Sophy and Ann, and then 
she sat once more near the window, the let- 
ter in her hand. 

She was thinking how fine it would be to 
take a long ride in the cars, and see all the 
wonders of the city. 

She thought of the party that Prue had 
said would be given for her. She wondered 
if Prue would wear a prettier frock than 
the one that she had been making for her 
doll. 

Prue was, indeed, having a delightful 
visit, and little Clare Harden was quite as 
happy. 

It was a pleasure to watch Prue, and to 


184 


PRUE’S MERRY TIMES 


see her delight in every new thing that was 
brought to her notice. 

For two days Clare and Prue had spent 
every spare moment in talking of the 
fine party that was to be given in a few 
days. 

Prue had brought with her everything 
that she would need, except the little party 
frock. 

Kandy had preferred to purchase that in 
the city. 

It had just come from one of the large 
stores, and Prue was delighted with it, and 
charmed with the pretty slippers that 
matched it. 

It was a simple frock of pale blue muslin, 
trimmed with fine lace, ribbons, and clus- 
ters of tiny pink rosebuds. 

The blue slippers had rosettes of lace, 
and a pink bud in the centre of each. 


THE VISIT 


185 


Clare was to wear white gauze, white rib- 
bons, buff rosebuds, and white slippers. 

The two pretty frocks were admired by 
the little girls who were to wear them, and 
they were sure that there never were pret- 
tier ones made. 

And while Prue and Clare were talking 
of the frocks and the party, other little girls 
were doing the same, only they were won- 
dering what Prue and Clare would wear. 

It was Saturday afternoon, and Chrysta- 
bel Ardsley and Marie Varney were spend- 
ing an hour with Cecilia Dane. 

They were always together, and each had 
a shorter name for their friends. They had 
so much to say that they could never spare 
the time for their full names. 

They were wondering what the little girl 
would be like, in whose honor the party was 
to be given. 


186 


PRUE’S MERRY TIMES 


Now, Chrys Ardsley, you know she’s 
from the country, and so of course she’s 
likely to look countrified. How could she 
help it? ” 

“ Why, Cecil, she doesn’t have to, and she 
may look very nice, and te nice, too,” 
Chrys replied. 

“ I don’t s’pose Cecil thought she’d wear 
a sunhonnet or a gingham gown, but that 
her face would look countrified, and she’d 
be country shape, perhaps,” said the other 
little girl. 

WTiat do you mean? ” questioned 
Chrys, her dark eyes looking straight into 
the blue eyes of the speaker. 

‘‘ Oh, bright red cheeks as round as 
apples, and chunky,” Cecil replied. 

“ I like you both,” said Chrys, “ you 
know I do, but I don’t think what we’re 
saying sounds kind. W'e love Clare, and 


THE VISIT 


187 


this little Prue Weston is her guest. I 
mean, for Clare’s sake, to like her.” 

‘‘ Oh, well we didn’t mean to be naughty, 
nor unkind,” said Cecil, “ it was only an 
idea we had.” 

The great hall at the Harden home was 
decorated with palms and bright flowers, 
and in the drawing-room, the air was heavy 
with the perfume of roses and pinks. 

The two little hostesses, Clare and Prue, 
stood waiting to receive their guests. 

With them, as if to enhance their childish 
charm, stood sweet-faced Randy, in a pearl- 
colored gown with pink blossoms, hand- 
some Helen Dayton Harden, in blue velvet 
and sapphires, and her stately Aimt Harcia 
in black velvet and diamonds. 

And when the happy, chattering little 
guests arrived, and hastened to greet the 


188 


PRUE’S MERRY TIMES 


handsome group, they seemed only to see 
Clare and dear little Prue. 

“ Oh, look! ” said gentle Chrys to the two 
friends who, a few days before, had talked 
of the “ little country girl.” 

“ Look! ” she repeated, “ she’s sweeter, 
and prettier than any city child we 
know.” 

They looked in wonder at the lovely 
little figure, and were eager to know 
her. 

Small boys, and small girls, all were 
charmed with Prue. 

When soft strains of music invited them 
to dance, she placed her hand in that of her 
partner, and like a fairy, lightly she fiew 
down the room, with an airy grace that sur- 
prised the city children. 

“ Who taught you to dance? ” Cecil 
asked, looking at Prue curiously. 


THE VISIT 


189 


“ Mr. Janies Henry Bowers; and lie 
knows all about dancing,” she said. 

I guess he does,” said Chrys, with a 
laugh, “ for our teacher has taught us two 
winters, and not one of us can dance like 
that! ” 

There were many numbers to dance to 
merry music, there was a delicious spread, 
and a fine box of bonbons for each little 
guest. 

And when at last the afternoon had 
passed, and they told Clare and Prue what 
a delightful party it had been, their words 
were sincere, and they went away with the 
feeling that it had been the finest party that 
they had ever attended, and that it was a 
joy to claim Prue Weston, “ the little coun- 
try girl,” as a friend. 

When the last little guest had gone, Prue 
turned to Mrs. Marden. 


190 


PRVE’S MERRY TIMES 


Clasping her slender hand in both her 
own dimpled ones she spoke the happy 
thoughts that filled her heart. 

“ This was the nicest party any little girl 
ever had,” she said, “ and I never knew a 
house could be so grand as this, or that 
people had parties so fine. Everything in 
this house shines! ” 

“ Even you, little Prue,” said Mrs. Mar- 
den. “You shone like a star this after- 
noon.” 

“ Me? ” said Prue, in surprise, “ why, 
I didn’t do anything. The men with the 
harp and the fiddles played, and you, and 
Aunt Marcia, and Randy talked, but all I 
did was dance, and have a lovely time.” 

“ You did more, dear. Beside dancing 
like a fairy, you made every one who met 
you happier than she was before,” 

“ Oh, did I? ” said Prue, her brown eyes 


THE VISIT 


191 


shining. “I’d rather do that than any- 
thing.” 

“ What nice girls and boys they were! ” 
she said a moment later. 

She did not know that her own sunny 
nature made them wish to be kind to her. 

The little guests were indeed attractive 
children, it is true, but something else was 
also true,— they had been charmed with lit- 
tle Prue. 

On the day after the party four letters 
came, two for Randj^ and two for Prue. 
Mrs. Weston and Jotham had written to 
Randy, while Philury and J ohnny had each 
sent a letter to Prue. 

She opened Philury ’s first. 

“ Dear Prue: — 

“Ye may not be expectin ter heer from 
me, but knowin ye could stand a extry let- 


192 


PRUE’S MERRY TIMES 


ter, I’m writin of it. I’ll begin by tellin 
all the news. 

“ My Cousin, Peltiah fell oftn the hay- 
mow, an broke his arm, so he cant do any 
farm work for sum time. As he dont like 
work very well, he aint worryin, but his 
pa is. 

“ The new calf jumped over a barrel, an 
fell down in a heap, but wasnt hurt at all. 
Peltiah says that’s jest the difference be- 
tween the calf’s luck an hisn. Tabby’s took 
a notion ter be reel gay an antic. She 
romps with the kitten as if she was jest 
nother one. They’s a little stray kitten 
come up here, and as the kitten. Dahlia 
Keziah, has took a fancy ter play with it. 
Tabby has adopted it. She washes it jest 
as much as she does her own kitten. Its 
most all white, with bright blue eyes. 
Guess Tabby liked her looks. 


THE VISIT 


193 


“ I went down ter Barneses store, an I 
bought a new cookie cutter. Its a sunflower. 
I bought it purpose fer you. I’ll bake a big 
batch of em ter be ready fer ye the day 
ye come home. I guess Ive made some 
blunders in my spellin, but ye can read it, 
and it tells ye how I love ye. 

“ Yours truly, 

“ Philury.” 

“ Now that’s a nice letter,” said Prue, 
showing it to Aunt Marcia, ‘‘ and it’s just 
no matter if she doesn’t always spell right. 
You’d know she was good just to read 
it.” 

Aunt Marcia adjusted her glasses, and 
read the letter, then she asked: 

“ Will you let Helen read it, dear? ” 

“ Oh, yes,” said Prue, “ I want her to. 
It’s such a nice letter. Well, I don’t mean 


194 


PRUE’S MERRY TIMES 


it’s fine,” she explained, “ but it’s good, 
like Philury.” 

“ That is a very newsy letter, Prue,” said 
Mrs. Harden, “ and your PhUury is a 
friend worth having. She has a kind, lov- 
ing heart, and she is absolutely sincere. I 
wish we could say that of every one.” 

“I’ve another letter, and the envelope 
has a picture on it. See! ” 

She held up a very pink envelope. On 
one corner was the stamp, on the opposite 
comer a bright bouquet, cut from some col- 
ored picture and glued in place. 

The address was in very large vertical 
writing, and Randy smiled when she saw 
it, for she guessed who had sent it. 

Prue opened it. 

“Why, it’s from Johnny!” she cried. 
“ I knew ’fore I saw his name, the spelling 
is so awful.” 


THE VISIT 


195 


Mrs. Harden and Aunt Marcia were 
amused, but they did not let Prue know 
that. 

“ Deee Prue : — 

‘‘ Quite a pile of things have hapend 
while youve bin gone. Folks huntin’ in the 
skool house suller, found out how the fire 
what burnt it was made, an Jim Bullson, 
the blakmith (hes poliseman, too) says no 
boys done it. He says it was a tramp what 
past threw the village. The Butley twins 
herd the tramp tell a ruff lookin man that 
he ment to burn it. They was glad to hav 
it burn if sum one els would do it. They 
wouldnt darest too. 

“ Polks sez it’ll be three munths fore we 
kin go too skool. I wish it would be a yeer. 

“I’m savin all my pennies to treet you 
with, when you come home. Mr. Bowers 


196 


PRUE’S MERRY TIMES 


sliowd us how to do a new danse last Sat- 
day. Its awful pretty, hut its hard. I 
cant do it. One er my feet mus be biggem 
the other, cans I keep tmnhling over it. 

‘‘ When I danse, an when I bow it gets 
in my way. I danse better with you than 
I do with Hitty. Hopin you’ll come home 
soon Im 

“ Yors trooly, 

“ Johnny.” 


CHAPTER XI 

RETUEN TO THE VILLAGE 

O ARLIE SHELTON ran down the road 
to where Phonie Jenks was leaning 
o ver the wall. 

“ Did you know Prue’s coming home 
next Wednesday? ” she shouted as she ran. 
“ Are you sure? ” Phonie asked. 

“ Bob Rushton just told me,” said Car- 
lie, and he says he heard it straight, 
’cause Mrs. Hodgkins told him, and she’d 
just been up to Mrs. Weston’s to find out.” 

“ But Mrs. Hodgkins doesn’t always get 
things right,” objected Phonie. “ I 
thought Prue was going to stay in Boston 
a long time.” 


197 


198 PRUE’8 MEBEY TIMES 

“ Three weeks,” said Carlie, “ it’ll be a 
few days more than three weeks if she 
comes hack Wednesday.” 

Carlie was on her way down to the store, 
and after chatting a few moments, she hur- 
ried away. 

“I don’t b’lieve Hitty knows, an’ I’m 
going to ask her,” Phonie said to herself. 
She ran across the road and down a little 
way to the Buffum house. Hitty was going 
up the path to the house, her apron full of 
popping corn. 

“ Hello! ” she cried, as she saw Phonie. 

‘‘Hello!” Phonie replied, hurrying 
toward her. Then she told the news. 

“ And she is truly coming Wednesday,” 
she said, “ because Mrs. Hodgkins went up 
and asked Mrs. Weston, and then she told 
Bob Rushton, and Bob told Carlie Shelton, 
and Carlie told me, an’ I’m telling you.” 


RETURN TO THE VILLAGE 199 


Hitty was a shrewd little girl. She 
thought that the news had travelled quite 
a distance before reaching her, but she did 
not say so. 

“ I wish she was coming home sooner, 
don’t you? ” Phonic asked. 

“ Yes, I do,” said Hitty, it’s awful dull 
when she’s away. Can’t you stay and play 
with me? ” 

“ Wait till I run back and get my doll,” 
said Phonic. 

“ Don’t bring your doll! ” Hitty shouted 
after the flying flgure, ‘‘ bring only her 
clothes.” 

“ Why? ” Phonic asked in surprise. 

“ ’Cause we’ll dress the kittens instead,” 
said Hitty. 

“ All right,” cried Phonic, and she soon 
returned with her apron full of doll’s 
clothes. 


200 


PRUE’S MERRY TIMES 


“ Where’s the kittens'? ” she asked. 

“ In the woodshed,” Hitty rephed. 
“ Come. Let’s call one Prue and the other 
Clare, and we’ll play they’re in Boston.” 

“ Oh, that’ll be fine,” said Phonic, “ only 
we haven’t been to Boston, so how will we 
know what to have ’em do? ” 

“We won’t know just what, but we 
know some things Mrs. Weston told us, and 
the other things we’ll have to guess at,” 
said Hitty. 

That sounded rather vague, but it also 
sounded as if it might be amusing, so Pho- 
nic agreed. 

The two little kittens were sound asleep 
in a basket, and they mewed loudly when 
awakened from their cosy nap. 

“Now don’t you cry,” said Hitty; 
“ you’re going to Boston.” 

The sleepy kittens cried louder than be- 


RETURN TO THE VILLAGE 201 


fore, as if they did not like the idea of the 
visit to the city. 

“I’ll put this red cloak on this one, and 
you put your doll’s blue cloak on the other 
one,” said Hitty, “ and then we’ll take the 
train.” 

The kittens seemed rather to like the 
woollen cloaks, probably because they were 
warm, and their wee faces looked very cun- 
ning, peeping out from their hoods. 

“ Ma put this big old rocking-chair out 
here in this shed, ’cause Johnny stood up 
in it, and made a hole through the cane seat. 
We’ll call it a car, and we’ll get into it, and 
ride with kitty Clare, and kitty Prue, to 
Boston. I’ll put this board across the hole 
so we won’t tumble through,” said Hitty. 

“ Oh, what fun! ” cried Phonie, and they 
clambered aboard, with the kittens in their 


arms. 


202 


PRUE’S MERRY TIMES 


“ You be the whistle and I’ll be the bell,” 
said Hitty, and immediately it seemed that 
a great deal of noise was required to start 
the train. The old chair rocked violently; 
and with many a jolt on the uneven floor, 
they sped on their way to Boston, 

The trip seemed to be rather a long one, 
and a great number of stations were called, 
all of them names that never before had 
been heard, when at last Hitty shouted: 
“ Boston! Boston! ” 

“ Now, what shall we do flrst? ” Phonie 
asked. 

“ Oh, I know,” said Hitty, “ ’cause Mrs. 
Weston told me. Prue got into Mrs. Day- 
ton’s el’gant carriage, and they rode and 
rode till they came to the house. We’ll 
have to stay in this chair, and play it’s the 
carriage,” said Hitty. 

After a great deal of very hard rocking. 


RETURN TO THE VILLAGE 203 


she announced that they had reached the 
house. 

“ Now, I don’t know what to do next,” 
said Hitty, frankly, “ so we’ll play we’ve 
been in Boston a week, and we’ll dress Prue 
and Clare up, and let them go down Tre- 
mont Street.” 

Is that the street Mrs. Harden lives 
on? ” Phonie asked. 

“ Oh, no,” Hitty replied. “ Mrs. Weston 
said the street she lives on is— is,— oh, yes, 
now I remember. It is Commonwealth 
Avenue.” 

“ That sounds grand! ” said Phonie. 
“ S’pose it’s near Tremont Street? ” 

“ I don’t know,” Hitty admitted, but 
anyway, we’ll let them walk there.” 

The sleepy kittens had enjoyed being 
rolled up in the cloaks, hut they did not 
take kindly to the little frocks. 


204 


PRUE’8 MERRY TIMES 


They mewed loudly when their paws 
were thrust through the armholes, and 
kicked and scratched wildly before the 
dresses were on. 

“ Their waists are so big we can’t hook 
the belts. We’ll have to tie sashes on them 
to hide where their dresses aren’t fast- 
ened,” said Phonie. Then thby took them 
out into the dooryard to walk from Com- 
monwealth Avenue down Tremont Street. 

“ Now, kitty, you’re Prue, and you must 
walk as if you like to,” said Hitty. 

“ And pussy Clare, you mustn’t lay down 
and roll over! S’posen you were right on 
Tremont Street! Clare wouldn’t act like 
that.” 

The kitten did not in the least mind 
Phonie ’s disgust. 

Not only did she continue to roll over and 
over, but lay chewing the hem of her frock. 


RETURN TO THE VILLAGE 205 

“ They went to a concert one day,” said 
Hitty, “ and Mrs, Hodgkins said there were 
many as forty fiddles, and cymbals, and 
drums. Let’s have a concert next! ” 

“We haven’t anything to play on,” said 
Phonie, “ and I wish we had, because it 
would be fun.” 

“ We have,” said Hitty, laughing; “ you 
just wait a minute.” 

She ran into the house, and soon ap- 
peared with an old comb, and two tin sauce- 
pan covers. 

An old tin pan lay near the watering-pot. 

Hitty picked it up, and handing it to 
Phonie with a stout stick she told her to 
use it for a drum. 

“ Pound it hard for a drum,” she cried, 
“ and sing ‘ Yankee Doodle ’ through this 
comb,” 

“ How can I do both? ” Phonie asked. 


206 


PRUE’S MERRY TIMES 


“ Wliy hold the comb in one hand, and 
bang the tin pan with the other,” said 
Hitty. “I’m going to smash these tin cov- 
ers together for cymbals. That’s what Joel 
Simpkins does in our band! ” 

“ The kittens won’t like it,” said Phonie. 
“ They’ll have to,” cried Hitty. 
“ They’re in Boston! ” 

So the kittens were seated in the old 
rocking-chair, and then the concert be- 
gan. 

Such a racket! Phonie sang with aU her 
might, and beat and banged the old tin pan 
as if she were trying to make a hole in it, 
while Hitty clashed and slammed the tin 
covers together, making a tremendous din. 

Johnny, running up the path heard the 
noise, and burst the door open. 

“ What are ye doin’? ” he cried, and 
before Hitty could reply, the frightened 


RETURN TO THE VILLAGE 207 


kittens rushed between his feet, and out 
into the yard. 

Hitty and Phonie were laughing so hard 
that for a moment neither could answer. 

“We were having a concert,” said Hitty, 
when at last she could speak, “ and the 
kittens didn’t like it.” 

“ ’Tain’t very queer,” said Johnny, “ fer 
I never heard such a awful noise. I won- 
der ma didn’t stop ye.” 

“ She’s over to my house,” said Phonie, 
“ so she didn’t hear us.” 

“I’d think she could hear if she was 
down ter the Centre,” said Johnny, “an’ 
let me tell ye. Ye know how deef old Mr. 
Simpkins is?” Oh, yes, they knew that. 

“ Well, he was passin’, and he stopped 
an’ looked up here, an’ he said: 

“ ‘ Any one blastin’ rocks up ter your 
house? ’ ” 


208 


PRUE’8 MERRY TIMES 


I said no, an’ ran up liere ter see what 
was goin’ on.” 

‘‘ It sounded better inside the shed,” said 
Hitty. 

“ It couldn’t have sounded worse! ” de- 
clared Johnny, “ an’ I wouldn’t b’lieve two 
girls could make such a awful racket! ” 

“ Well, you help us catch those kittens,” 
said Phonie, “ for they’re gone off with the 
dolls’ dresses we dressed them up in.” 

It was some time before the kittens were 
captured. They feared that they were to 
hear more of the noise that had so fright- 
ened them. 

Prue awoke one morning, and whispered 
softly to Randy. 

“ Are you awake? ” she asked. 

“I’ve been awake for some time,” said 
Randy; “ what is it, Prue? ” 


RETURN TO THE VILLAGE 209 


“ I was thinking how queer it is to feel 
two ways all at once. We’ll start for home 
to-night, and I’m glad of that, and I know 
I’ll be sorry to say ‘ good-bye ’ here.” 

“ That is not strange,” Randy replied, 
‘‘ for these dear friends here have done 
everything in their power to make our stay 
with them delightful. We surely will feel 
sorry to leave them. We love our own dear 
ones even more, so how can it be singular 
that we long to be with them again? ” 

‘‘ Wouldn’t it he fine if we could be with 
all the people we love all the time? ” 

Randy laughed. 

“ If only we might! ” she said. 

The day was filled with pleasure, and 
when at night “ good-bye ” had been said, 
and they found themselves in the cars, mov- 
ing rapidly over the rails toward home, 
they thought of the beautiful home that 


210 


PRUE’S MERRY TIMES 


they had left, of lovely Helen Harden, of 
gracious Aunt Marcia, and of little Clare, 
who had cried so piteously because she 
must part with Prue. 

Helen had comforted her by telling her 
that Prue and Randy would come again, 
and Randy had offered another bit of com- 
fort. 

“ Time will pass swiftly,” she said, “ and 
when summer comes, you must come for a 
longer stay with us. Would you like to 
spend the smnmer at my home, and have 
Prue to play with all the time? ” 

Oh, yes, yes! ” Clare had eagerly said, 
and she had smiled through her tears. 

Little Prue seemed very thoughtful, and 
Randy thought her tired and sleepy. They 
had taken the night train that the greater 
part of the distance might be covered while 
they slept. 


RETURN TO THE VILLAGE 211 

Very early in the morning, the scenery 
began to look familiar, and Prue, looking 
out, cried eagerly:— 

“ Look! Randy, look! Isn’t that the 
church at the Four Corners? ” 

“ Truly it is! ” said Randy. “ Are you 
glad? ” 

Oh, yes, yes! ” cried Prue. “ And, 
Randy, isn’t home best? ” 

“ However lovely any other place 
may be, surely home is best,” Randy 
said. 

“ There’s Jotham! ” shouted Prue, as 
they drew up at the platform. 

“ There’s Jotham! ” echoed Randy’s 
heart, and, regardless of Sandy McLeod 
and the station-master, he clasped her in 
his strong arms. 

“ Me too, for I love you! ” cried Prue, 
and he caught her, and swung her up to 


212 


PRUE’S MERRY TIMES 


the level of his eyes, held her a moment, 
then gently kissing her cheek, he set her 
down. 

“ And there’s Sandy! ” cried Prue, and 
she ran to the genial old Scotchman for the 
welcome that she knew he would gladly 
give her. 

“ It’s a bonny sight tae see ye,” he said, 
“an’ glad I am ye’ve come hame. A’ the 
folks i’ the place hae missed ye. We canna 
get on wi’out ye, bairnie; d’ye ken 
that? ” 

“I’ll stay at home a long time, Sandy,” 
said Prue, “ ’cause while it’s fine to go, it’s 
even nicer to get home.” 

“ Now hear the hairnie! ” said old Sandy, 
well pleased with her promise that she 
would not soon leave town for a visit. Mr. 
Weston drove up to the platform, and after 
a hearty greeting, Randy and Jotham took 


RETURN TO THE VILLAGE 213 


the back seat, while Prue climbed to the 
front seat beside her father, the place that 
she always liked. 

As they passed the Buffum farm, 
Johnny ran out, mounted the stone wall, 
danced a wild jig to show his joy at 
her return, lost his balance, and fell 
from the wall, rolling over and over 
on the dry grass after the team had 
passed. 

Prue did not look back, so she did not 
know that, in the midst of his rejoicing, 
Johnny came down to earth! He was not 
injured. Indeed, he had tumbled from the 
wall, much as a feather bed would have 
done. 

The fall had not even hurt his feelings. 
He was very happy. 

Mrs. Weston and Philury stood in the 
doorway, waiting to greet them. 


214 


PRUE’S MERRY TIMES 


‘‘I’m so glad you’ve come,” said Mrs. 
Weston, to wMch Philury added: 

“ Ef ye’d lost tlie train, an’ we’d had ter 
wait longer ter see ye, her an’ me would 
have had caniption fits! ” 

They had but just removed their wraps, 
when some one tapped at the door, and then 
waiving ceremony, entered. 

It was Mrs. Hodgkins, and she was evi- 
dently much excited. 

“I’ve been down ter the dee^ot, ter ask 
the station man if Eandy an’ Prue got off’n 
the train, an’ he said ye did, hut what 
makes that man grin so? Is it queer that 
I take such a interest in my neighbors? ” 

“ ’Course not,” said Philury; “it’s yer 
ev ’lastin’ int’rest in things that keeps ye 
alive. Why, news is as the breath of yer 
nostrils! ” 

Her eyes were twinkling, as she turned 


RETURN TO THE VILLAGE 215 


toward the kitchen, and Mrs. Hodgkins 
looked after her, wondering if the girl were 
in earnest, or if she were really laughing 
at her for being a newsmonger. Before she 
could decide, there was another tap at the 
door, and Johnny and Hitty entered. 

“We’re just awful glad you’ve come 
home! ” they cried. “ An’ there’s a new 
notice on the wilier tree! ” said Johnny. 

“ An’ it’s ’bout the dancing school, an’ 
we come up to tell you what it says,” said 
Hitty. 

“ It says that two weeks from to-day 
there’ll be a ‘ grand swow-ree' an’ we don’t 
know what that is, but we’re wild ter go 
to it,” said Hitty. 

“ ’Tain’t swow-ree,” corrected Johnny, 
“it’s sewer-ree; and I wish I knew what 
it is.” 

Eandy laughed. Could any one hear such 


216 


PRUE’8 MERRY TIMES 


wild efforts at pronouncing, and refrain 
from laughing? 

“ I think you mean soiree,” she said, 
“ and that means an assembly, or party.” 

‘‘ Well, anyway, we’d like ter go,” said 
Johnny, quite unabashed, “ and all our 
folks are invited to come.” 

‘‘We’ll certainly go,” said Mrs. Weston, 
“ and Randy and Jotham will be interested, 
I know.” 


CHAPTER XII 

THE DANCING PARTY 

rriHE hall was brilliantly lighted. 

. The parents and friends of the little 
pupils had arrived early, and were chatting 
together in neighborly fashion, 

James Henry Bowers pranced about, 
speaking to this one, joking with that one, 
and making himself generally popular. 

He was fairly resplendent. He felt that 
his ‘‘ evening clothes ” gave him a very ele- 
gant appearance, and he had added the fin- 
ishing touch by placing a huge cluster of 
scarlet geraniums in his buttonhole. 

Feverfew surrounded the geraniums, and 
the green leaves added, made it appear as 
217 


218 


PRUE’S MERRY TIMES 


if his lapel were supporting a small flower 
garden. 

Mrs. Hodgkins, having no children of her 
own, came to see her neighbors’ children 
dance. 

“ Naow, I tell ye what. Mis’ Brimblecom, 
when I was little, there wasn’t no such 
doins as this ter make fun fer us children,” 
she was saying, '‘an’ when I see little girls 
an’ boys dressed up an’ ready ter caper 
around, and lights a-burning, an’ a piany 
banging, I can’t help sort er envyin’ the 
children of ter-day.” 

“ ’Tis so,” said Mrs. Brimblecom, “an’ 
I’m glad they do have a few gay times. 
This little village is so quiet, it needs a man 
like Mr. Bowers ter wake it up.” 

“ There’s Tom Thompson actooally put- 
tin’ on some white cotton gloves. Sorter 
swell, ain’t he? ” queried Joel Simpkins. 


THE DANCING PARTY 


219 


An’ Hitty an’ Sophy Buffum has got 
dresses alike, er flowered muslin,” said 
Mrs. Hodgkins, “an’ where’s Johnny? Has 
he got a suit off’n the same piece? If he 
has, he must look gay, with a pink flowered 
blouse an’ trousers! ” 

“ Oh, don’t ye worry ’bout Johnny,” 
said Jabez Brimblecom, with a chuckle. 
“ I seen him, when I came in, an’ he’s 
got on reel city clothes. He’s a-talkin’ 
ter little Prue Weston, a-beggin’ her ter 
give him ’most all the dances on her 
card.” 

It was true that Johnny and his sisters 
were prettily dressed. The little muslin 
frocks had been purchased at the huge 
price of six cents a yard, and paid for in 
butter, the best that Mrs. BufPum could 
make. 

Johnny’s suit had been bought in Boston 


220 


PRUE’S MERRY TIMES 


by Silas Barnes, and it bad been paid for 
in more butter. 

‘‘ He’s tur’ble anxious ter look like a city 
boy, an’ p’raps city clothes will do it,” 
said Mrs. Buffum, so when ye go down 
ter Boston, get him a suit that will look well 
an’ won’t cost too much.” 

Silas Barnes was too wise to select a 
party costume. That, he thought, would 
not be useful. Instead, he chose a 
pretty sailor suit, and Johnny was de- 
lighted. 

Now, in the little ante-room, he stood, 
coaxing Prue for a compliment. 

“Do I look like a city boy? ” he asked, 
eagerly. 

“ You look very nice,” said Prue. 

“ But do I look like a city boy? ” per- 
sisted Johnny. 

Prue thought of the boys at Clare Mar- 



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“Oh, Johnny, how you tease!” said Prue. — Page 221 


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THE DANCING PARTY 


221 


den’s party, remembered their velvet suits, 
silk hose, and patent leather pumps. 

No, I wouldn’t ever think you were a 
city boy, Johnny,” she said, gently, but 
truthfully, “ but you do truly look very 
nice.” 

Johnny was disposed to be as happy as 
possible, and grateful for small favors. 

“ Well, then, promise me most of the 
dances on your card. Will you? ” he asked. 

“ Now, Johnny, Randy says it’s nice to 
give every little friend a dance, and I won’t 
have enough to go ’round if I give you 
many,” said Prue. 

“ Can I have four? ” he asked. 

“ Oh, Johnny, how you tease! ” said 
Prue, but she smiled as she said it. 

The flourish of the cornet, and opening 
chords on the piano put an end to Johnny’s 
coaxing, and together they ran to the hall. 


B22 


PRUE’S MERRY TIMES 


just in time for the march, the first number 
on the card. 

It was a large class, and the audience 
was delighted when they marched and 
counter-marched, moving in pleasing fig- 
ures. 

“ Ain’t that gret? ” questioned a young 
farmer, when the march was finished. 
“ Ain’t that gret? ” he repeated. “ Why, 
them two hoys er mine was the most awk- 
ward children I ever seen, hut they 
marched like fun, and they was as grace- 
ful as two young calves.” 

“ Jest about! ” declared Joel Simpkins, 
in a whisper, “ calves looks ter be all legs, 
an’ so did his two boys.” 

The first round dance, a waltz, made but 
small impression upon the audience, but 
the next number, the Lanciers, gave them 
great pleasure. 


THE DANCING PARTY 


223 


“ See ’em bowin’ an’ courtesyin’! Ain’t 
they slick? ” Joel Simpkins exclaimed. 

Poottiest thing I ever see! ” responded 
Jabez Brimblecom, an’ I do wish Josiah 
Boy den was here ter see ’em caper. Seem’s 
if he’d have ter say it’s a pootty sight.” 

“ Oh, Josiah wouldn’t say anything 
pleasant ’bout the little party, ef he was 
here,” Joel replied, with a laugh, ‘‘ fer he’s 
growled ’bout the dancin’ school ever since 
it started, an’ he’d think he wasn’t holdin’ 
his dignity ef he didn’t keep on growlin’.” 

“ Oh, look at Jeremy G-ifford! See his 
wes’kit. It’s got red buttons onto it. Ain’t 
he grand! ” cried a yoimg farmer, who had 
just entered, and stood near the door. 

“ See him bowin’ an’ scrapin’ ter Agatha 
Ware. He’s as lively as a green grasshop- 
per an’ hops ’baout as high. Jiminy! See 
him go it! ” 


224 


PRUE’S MERRY TIMES 


Aunt Nabby, who sat near, laughed 
softly. She thought Jeremy’s antics very 
amusing, but it was real pride that shone 
in her eyes when they rested upon Agatha. 

She was a quiet, demure little girl, but 
she danced very prettily, and her frock of 
pale gray silk, with its tiny blue figures was 
most becoming. 

It had been made from a gown of Aunt 
Nabby’s, and little frills of lace around the 
low neck and in the short sleeves, had made 
it look quite dainty. 

Aunt Nabby Ware had indulged in what 
seemed to her neighbors to be wild extrav- 
agance. She had ordered Silas Barnes to 
purchase some blue slippers for Agatha, 
and no child was ever happier than little 
Agatha when she opened the parcel and 
tried them on. 

hTow, between the figures of the dance. 


TEE DANCING PARTY 


225 


she stole a glance at them, and then looked 
across to where Aunt ISTabby sat, to smile 
at her. 

“It’s wuth the price er them slippers ter 
see a child so happy,” softly whispered 
Aunt Nabby. 

Prue’s pretty frock was the wonder and 
delight of all who saw it. Made in the city 
by skilled hands, it had a style, a character 
all its own, and the country children mar- 
velled at its beauty. 

“ She’s jest like a fairy I ” said Squire 
Weston. “ Jest see her, ma, there ain’t 
another child that’s her equal.” 

“Ye’re biased in her favor,” Mrs. Wes- 
ton replied, “ but I have ter admit I think 
’baout the same.” 

“ Why, what’s she doin’ now? ” she 
asked a moment later. 

The Lanciers was finished, and the next 


226 


PBUE’S MERRY TIMES 


number was to be an old-fasMoned dance, 
the Portland Fancy. 

The other boys and girls had found seats 
along the sides of the hall, but in the cen- 
tre stood Prue, one of the Butley twins on 
either side, and each evidently begging a 
favor. 

The music suddenly ceased, and this is 
what every one heard: 

“ Now, Joe and Job, I can’t give doth of 
you this dance, and yet you both keep teas- 
ing, so I won’t give it to either of you. I’ll 
give it to somebody else.” 

Then she ran away, and soon Bob 
Rushton was placing his name on her 
card. 

Mrs. Buffum’s speech was droll, and 
caused Mrs. Hodgkins to laugh softly to 
herself. 

“ Its plain ter see that Hitty is ^specially 


THE DANCING PARTY 




improved, and Johnny some by this dancin’, 
an’ while Sophy is some gawky, there’s no 
tollin’ haow much awkwarder she would 
have been ef James Hennery Bowers hadn’t 
have trained her feet.” 

Mrs. Buff urn’s remarks were usually 
forcible, if ungrammatical. 

Some pretty, fancy dances followed, and 
when, an hour later, the little pupils were 
donning their wraps, Mr. Bowers was over- 
whelmed with praise for the care that he 
had expended in training his class. 

“It’s ’mazin’ fine, I tell ye,” said Jabez 
Brimblecom. “ Why, all er the children 
looked an’ acted their very best, an’ ye 
could almost think the Butley twins was 
giniwine cherubs! ” 

“Ye might ef ye didn’t know ’em,” said 
Silas Barnes. “ Me ’n’ Joel has ter keep 
an eye on ’em every time they enter the 


228 


PRUE’S MERRY TIMES 


store, ’cause they’re sure ter be up ter 
somethin’, an’ there’s no guessin’ what.” 

“ Guess there ain’t! ” agreed Joel, who 
stood near his employer. “ Why, one day 
last week we ketched ’em in the cellar, an’ 
what d’ye think they was doin’? Joe was 
puttin’ molasses onto his hair ter make 
it lie smooth, he said; whilst Job was 
shootin’ beans at the bung-hole, an’ hittin’ 
it every time, an’ fillin’ the molasses with 
beans as fast as he could. He’d have used 
up all the beans if I hadn’t ketched him, 
an’ as fer Joe, he’d got his top hair gummed 
pootty flat.” 

A roar of laughter greeted his story. 

• “ Oh, yes, it’s funny, reel funny, ef it’s 
some other feller’s store that they play the 
pranks in,” said Silas Barnes. 

“ There’s the truth of it, mon,” said 
Sandy McLeod, ‘‘an’ wi’ a’ their faults, 


THE DANCING PARTY 


229 


they danced weel. The bairnies a’ danced 
weel. I hae joyed tae see them.” 

Aye, an’ the lads an’ the wee las- 
sies were glad, an’ blithe. It was rare 
pleasure tae watch them,” said Mrs. 
McLeod. 

We had the loveliest time,” said Prue, 
“ and Randy says she wouldn’t have missed 
seeing us for anything. Oh, I wish we 
could have another party to-morrow 
night.” 

“ So do I! ” 

“So do wel ” cried a chorus of eager 
voices. 

Talking and laughing, they ran down the 
stairs, and out into the road, on which the 
moonlight lay, and they still were dancing, 
little Prue leading them along a slanting 
band of moonlight. 

“We’re fairies! We’re fairies! ” she 


230 


PBUE’S MERRY TIMES 


cried, as the laughing troop followed her 
flying figure. 

‘‘ I wonder if any of ’em kin keep still 
long ’nough ter sleep ter-night? ” said Joel 
Simpkins. 

And while the children danced merrily 
along the road, their parents and neighbors 
talked of the evening’s pleasure, and all 
agreed that the instruction that the 
children had received was well worth 
the small price that Mr. Bowers had 
asked. 

“ What a crowd came over from the Four 
Corners,” said Silas Barnes; “ as many as 
forty at least, an’ p’raps more! ” 

“ If there was forty from the Four Cor- 
ners, there wasn’t less’n fifty from this 
place! ” declared Joel Simpkins. 

“I didn’t caount,” Mrs. Hodgkins said, 
‘‘ but I know I never see so many children 


THE DANCING PARTY 


231 


all to oncet before, an’ land, wa’n’t they 
lively! They hopped like fleas! ” 

“ Speakin’ er hoppin’, reminds me er the 
time I ketched the Butley boys in my 
squash vines,” said Jabez Brimblecom, ‘‘ or 
rather, I mean the time I didn’t ketch ’em! 

“ As fast as I’d try ter lay hands on one, 
he’d slide out’n my grasp, an’ the other 
feller ’d jump up in front of me. I’d reach 
fer him, an’ off he’d scoot, whilest the fust 
boy would bob up grinnin’ at me. They 
was just like jumpin’-jacks, an’ might still 
have been hoppin’ in amongst the squashes, 
if somethin’ hadn’t helped me. They got 
their feet ketched in them vines, an’ over 
they went. I made a grab fer ’em, an’ when 
they whined, of course I let ’em go. I 
oughtn’t to, but I never could punish chil- 
dren.” 

“Ye’d be less soft-hearted, ef ye had a 


232 


PRUE’8 MERRY TIMES 


store, and was always bein’ pestered with 
their mischief,” said Silas Barnes. 

“ P’raps,” said Jabez, ‘‘ but I ain’t 
sure.” 

For days the children talked of little else 
save the dancing party that had given them 
so much pleasure. 

Indeed, the older people of the village 
were equally interested, and neighbors 
chatted when they met in the lanes, or on 
the road to the Centre. 

As the weeks flew by, the children who 
liked to go to school were very sorry that 
the old schoolhouse was not rebuilt, while 
those who did not like school were de- 
lighted to see the charred building undis- 
turbed. 

The selectmen had felt it impossible to 
rebuild before another season. 

Little Prue Weston was always happy. 


TEE DANCING PARTY 


233 


She liked study, and would have been a 
cheerful little pupil if school had again 
opened. 

As a prolonged vacation was given the 
children, she intended to enjoy it, and she 
filled the happy days with merry games, 
with song and laughter. 

And now the spring had come. 

Over the hills in early morning, a soft 
mist hung, the sunshine seemed brighter, 
the little brooks rippled over the pebbles, 
as they rushed through the woods toward 
the open meadowland, where they glistened 
in the sunlight. 

Prue and Hitty, Carlie Shelton and Bob 
Rushton, Johnny Buffum and the But- 
ley twins sat on the stone wall at the 
side of the road, when Phonie Jenks and 
Agatha Ware came running across the 
fields. 


234 


PRUE’S MERRY TIMES 


“ Why, you’re all sitting in a row,” said 
Agatha; “ what’s the game? ” 

‘‘ ’Tain’t a game,” said Bob Rushton, 
“ we’re just talking. Come on! ” 

“ On the wall? ” said Agatha, with a 
laugh, as she sprang up beside him, while 
Phonie promptly seated herself beside her. 

“ What were you talking about? ” 
Agatha asked. 

“ Oh, everything,” declared Johnny. 

“ I was telling what ma said this morn- 
ing, that we’re to have the same teacher 
next year, and we’re all glad, because she’s 
so sweet,” said Hitty. 

“ And I was saying that I heard that 
we’re to have a better schoolhouse than the 
one that was burned,” said Bob. 

“ And I was telling the nicest thing of 
all,” said Prue, “ and that is that Clare 
Harden is coming to spend the whole sum- 


THE DANCING PARTY 235 

mer at Eandy’s house, and Randy is going 
to make ever so many nice times for her, 
sort of parties, I guess, and you’ll all he in- 
vited! ” 

“ Hooray! Hooray! ” shouted the hoys, 
and, ‘‘ Oh, fine! How lovely! ” cried the 
girls, their cheeks pink and their eyes shi- 
ning. 

They were looking forward to a summer 
filled with pleasant happenings. 

Those who have learned to love little 
Prue, and would like to meet her again with 
her many playmates, to enjoy with them 
the summer pleasures, and to know what 
happened during their vacation days, may 
read of all this in 

“ Prue’s Little Friends.” 





THE PRVB BOOKS 

By AMY BROOKS 

Illustrated by the Author 12nio Cloth 
Price, $1.00 each 

LITTLE SISTER PRUE 

RUNNING little Prue, one of the most 
winsome little girls ever “put in a 
book,” has already been met in another 
series where she gave no small part of the 
interest. She well deserved books of her 
own for little girls of her age, and they are 
now ready with everything in the way of 
large, clear type, and Miss Brooks’s best 
pictures and her pleasing cover designs to 
make them attractive. 

“ It is a healthy, happy, charming book.’*— 
Buffalo News. 

PRUE AT SCHOOL 

L ittle prue is a favorite at school and we cannot wonder that 
she is. Hers is of the “district school” variety, for Prue is a 
little country girl, but blessed with the kindest of parents and a very 
charming older sister. 

“ Prue is a charming little girl, wholesome 
and good to read about.” — Duluth Herald. 

PRUE’S PLAYHATES 

O NE of the brightest and most attractive 
of all books for young children. Boys 
can enjoy it as well as girls, for one of the 
most appealing parts of the book deals with 
“Hi Babson,” the mistaken boy who 
thought joining a circus would be easier than 
“doing chores.” To know Prueisto love her. 

“ It is a charming book for young children, 
full of fun, sparkling with jokes, yet wholesome 
in tone and altogether the kind of reading the 
children like .” — Philadelphia Ledger, 

“ Boys and girls will enjoy reading of these 
little folks and their delightful good times .” — Herald and Presbyter, 


Por sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of 
price by the pubiisbera 

LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO., Boston 




The Dorothy Dainty Series 

By AMY BROOKS 

Large i2mo Cloth Illustrated 
BY THE Author Price $i.oo Each 

Dorothy Dainty 
Dorothy*s Playmates 
Dorothy Dainty at School 
Dorothy Dainty at the Shore 
Dorothy Dainty in the City 
Dorothy Dainty at Home 
Dorothy Dainty^s Oay Times 
Dorothy Dainty in the Country 
Dorothy Dainty's Winter 
Dorothy Dainty in the Mountains 

“Little Dorothy Dainty is one of the most generous-hearted 
of children. Selfishness is not at all a trait of hers, and she knows 
the value of making sunshine, not alone in her own heart, but for 
her neighborhood and friends,’* — Boston Courier. 

**l)0!lorav Painty, a Kttle girl, the only child of wealthy par- 
ents, is an exceedingly interesting character, and her earnest and 
interc-sting life is full of action and suitable adventure.” 

— Pittsburg Christian Advocate.. 

‘*No finer little lady than Dorothy 
Dainty was ever placed in a book for 
children.” 

^Teachers' yournal^ Pittsburgh 

Miss Brooks is a popular writer for 
the very little folks who can read. She 
has an immense sympathy for the chil- 
dren, and her stories never fail to be 
amusing.” 

^Rochester (N. K.) Herald. 




LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO., BOSTON 


THE RANDY BOOKS 

By AMY BROOKS 

i2mo Cloth Artistic Cover Design in Gold and Colors 
Illustrated BY THE Author Price $i»oo Each 

The progress of the “ Randy Books '* 
has been one continual triumph over the 
hearts of girls of all ages, for dear little 
fun-loving sister Prue is almost as much 
a central figure as Randy, growing to- 
ward womanhood with each book. The 
sterling good sense and simple natural- 
ness of Randy, and the total absence of 
slang and viciousness, make these books 
in the highest degree commendable, 
while abundant life is supplied by the 
doings of merry friends, and there is rich 
humor in the droll rural characters. 

Randy’s Good Times 
Randy’s Winter Randy’s Luck 

Randy and Her Friends Randy’s Loyaity 
Randy and Prue Randy’s Prince 

The Randy Books are among the very 
choicest books for young people to make 
A beginning with.*’ 

^Boston Courier » 

^‘The Randy Books of Amy Brooks 
have had a deserved popularity among 
young girls. They are wholesome and 
moral without being goody-goody.” 

^Chicago Post, 




Randy’s Summer 


LOTHROP. LEE & 3HEPARD CO., BOSTON 


Only DoHie 


By Nina Rhoades Illustrated by Bertha Davidsou 
Square i2mo Cloth $i.oo 

P IIS is a brightly written story of a girl of 
twelve, who, when the mystery of her birth 
is solved, like Cinderella, passes from drudgery to 
better circumstances. There is nothing strained 
or unnatural at any point. All descriptions or 
portrayals of character are life-like, and the 
book has an indescribable appealing quality 
which wins sympathy and secures success. 

“It is delightful reading at all times.** — Cedar 
Rapids (/a.) Republican, 

“ It is well written, the story runs smoothly, the idea 
is good, and it is Handled with ability.— 

Journal, 

The Little Girl Next Door^ 



By Nina Rhoades Large i2mo Cloth Illustrated 
bw Bertha Davidson $i.oo 

A DELIGHTFUL story of true and genuine friendship between an 
impulsive little girl in a fine New York home and a little blind girl 
in an apartment next door. The little girl’s determination to cultivate 
the acquaintance, begun out of the window during a rainy day, triumphs 
over the barriers of caste, and the little blind girl proves to be in every 
way a worthy companion. Later a mystery of birth is cleared up, and the 
little blind girl proves to be of gentle birth as well as of gentle manners. 



Winifred’s Neighbors 

By Nina Rhoades Illustrated 
by Bertha G. Davidson Large 
i2mo Cloth $1.00 

L ittle Winifred’s efforts to find some 
children of whom she reads in a book 
lead to the acquaintance of a neighbor 
of the same name, and this acquaintance 
proves of the greatest importance to Winifred’s 
own family. Through it all she is just such a 
little girl as other girls ought to know, and 
the ; will hold the interest of all ages. 


For sale by all booksellers^ or sent postpaid on receipt 
of price by the publishers 

UOTHROP. LEE & SHEPARD CO., BOSTON 




The Children on the Top Floor 

By Nina Rhoades Large i 2 mo 
Cloth Illustrated by Bertha 
Davidson $i.oo 

F this book little Winifred Hamilton, the 
child heroine of “Winifred’s Neighbors,” 
reappears, living in the second of the four 
stories of a New York apartment house. On 
the top floor are two very interesting children, 

Betty, a little older than Winifred, who is now 
ten, and Jack, a brave little cripple, who is a 
year younger. In the end comes a glad re- 
union, and also other good fortune for crippled 
Jack, and Winifred’s kind little heart has once 
more indirectly caused great happiness to others. 

How Barbara Kept Her Promise 

By Nina Rhoades Large 12 mo Cloth Illustrated 
by Bertha Davidson $1.00 

T WO orphan sisters, Barbara, aged twelve, and little Hazel, who is 
“only eight,” are sent from their early home in London to their 
mother’s family in New York. Faithful Barbara has promised her father 
that she will take care of pretty, petted, mischievous Hazel, and how she 
tries to do this, even in the face of great difficulties, forms the story which 
has the happy ending which Miss Rhoades wisely gives to all her stories. 

Little Miss Rosa mond 

By Nina Rhoades Illus- 
trated by Bertha G. Davidson 
Large i2mo Cloth $1.00 

OOSAMOND lives in Richmond, Va., 
with her big brother, who cannot 
give her all the comfort that she needs in 
the trying hot weather, and she goes to the 
seaside cottage of an uncle whose home 
is in New York. Here she meets Gladys 
and Joy, so well known in a previous 
book, “The Little Girl Next Door,” and 
after some complications are straightened 
out, bringing Rosamond’s honesty and 
kindness of heart into prominence, all are made very happy. 




For sale by all booksellers or sent postpaid on receipt 
of price by the publishers 

LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO., BOSTON 


Brick House Books** 

By NINA RHOADES 

Cloth I2mo Illustrated $1.00 each 


Priscilla of the 

Doll Shop 

-■jpHE Brick House Books/’ as they are 
called from their well-known cover de- 
signs, are eagerly sought by children all over 
the country. There are three good stories in 
this book, instead of one, and it is hard to 
say which little girls, and boys, too, for that 
matter, will like the best. 

Brave Little Peggy 

pEGGY comes from California to New Jersey to live with a brother and 
* sister whom she has not known since very early childhood. She is so 
democratic in her social ideas that many amusing scenes occur, and it is 
hard for her to understand many things that she must learn. But her good 
heart carries her through, and her conscientiousness and moral courage 
win affection and happiness. 

The Other Sylvia 

piGHT-year-old Sylvia learns that girls who 
are “ Kings’ Daughters ” pledge themselves 
to some kind act or service, and that one little 
girl named Mary has taken it upon herself to be 
helpful to all the Marys of her acquaintance. 
This is such an interesting way of doing good that 
she adopts it in spite of her unusual name, and 
really finds not only the other Sylvia,” but great 
happiness. 




For sale by all booksellers or sent postpaid on receipt of 
price by the publishers 

LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO., BOSTON 



MOTHER TUCKER’S SEVEN 

By ANGELINA W. WRAY 

Illustrated by Elizabeth WUhing:ton 
Large 12mo Cloth $1.25 

H ere is a story that appeals to one in- 
stantly, and which contains the same ele- 
ments that have made the famous Pepper 
Books” the success that they are, the merry, 
active life of a loving family forced to find 
pleasure in most economical ways, but never 
letting it prevent very great happiness in each 
other, and the resolute overcoming of obsta- 
cles. “Mother Tucker” is the refined, deli- 
cate widow of a country clergyman who has 
lost his life in an act of heroism, and the seven 
children are of varying ages, but all are busy 
and cheery. How the boys plan to earn money, 
how love for her own family proves stronger 
than the attraction of wealth to pretty Molly, 
and what even little Martha can do, must be read to be appreciated, 
and one need not be ashamed of wet eyes when “ Merry ** wins a prize 
on a piece written in secret by her kind oldest sister. They deserve 
every bit of the good fortune that comes to them. 

“ It is a good, healthy story, and breathes a cheery optimism which may 
bring courage to others who are similarly circumstanced .” — Springfield 
Republican, 



“The book is full of the wholesome every-day matters of a poor family, 
beautified by an unvarying spirit of bravery and cheerfulness .” — New Tork 
Times, 


“ This is an appealing story of real merit and those elements of life which 
are bound to win, not only popularity for the author, but also esteem and sue- . 
cess for those who are influenced by it,**—Religious Telescope ^ Dayton ^ O, 


For sale by alt booksellers^ or sent postpaid on receipt of 
price by the publishers 

LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO., Boston 


LITTLE BETTY BLEW 

Her Strange Experiences and Adventures 
in Indian Land 

BY ANNIE M. BARNES 

Illustrated by Frank T. Merrill i2mo Cloth with gold and 
colors 300 pages Price $1.25 

O NE of the very best books with 
which to satisfy a young reader’s 
natural desire for an “ Indian story ” 
is this one of little Betty Blew and 
what she saw and experienced when 
her family removed from Dorchester, 
Mass., two hundred years ago, to 
their home on the Ashley River above 
Charleston, South Carolina. Although 
Betty is but a small maid she is so 
wise and true that she charms all, and 
there are a number of characters who 
will interest boys as well as girls, and 
old as well as young. 

There are many Indians who figure most importantly in many 
exciting scenes, but the book, though a splendid Indian story,” 
IS far more than that. It is an unusually entertaining tale of the 
making of a portion of our country, with plenty of information 
as well as incident to commend it, and the account of a delight- 
ful family life in the brave old times. It is good to notice that 
this story is to be the first of a colonial series, which will surely 
be a favorite with children and their parents. Mr. Merrill’s 
illustrations are of unusual excellence, even for that gifted artist, 
and the binding is rich and beautiful. 



l^or mU by all booksellers^ or sent prepaid on receipt c/ prict 
by the publisheft 

Lothrop, Lee & Shepard Co., Boston 


JI Boy of a Cbouoand 
y«ar$ Jfgo 

By Harriet T. Comstock Large i2mo 
Profusely illustrated with full-page draw* 
ings and chapter headings by Georgb 
VaRIAN $IcOO 

I T will at once be understood that the 
“boy’* of the story is Alfred the Great 
in his youth, but it cannot be understood 
how delightful a story this is until it is seen 
and read. The splendid pictures of George 
Varian make this book superior among 
juveniles. 

“Not a boy lives who will not enjoy this book thoroughly. There is a good 
deal of first-class historical information woven into the story, but the best part of it 
is the splendid impression of times and manners it gives in old England a thousand 
years ago.’* — Courier- Jour7ial, 

*• Mrs. Comstock writes very appreciatively of Little Alfred, who was after, 
ward the Great, and from mighty meagre materials creates a story that hangs to. 
gether well. The illustrations for this volume are especially beautiful .” — Boston 
Home Journal, 

Cbe Story of Joan of 

By ICate E. Carpenter Illustrated by 
Amy Brooks, also from paintings, and 
with map Large 1 2mo Cloth $ i .00 

T he favorite story of Joan of Arc is here 
treated in a uniquely attractive way. 

“ Aunt Kate ” tells the story of Joan of Arc 
to Master Harold, aged ii, and to Misses 
Bessie and Marjorie, aged lo and 8, respec- 
tively, to their intense delight. They look 
up places on the map, and have a fine time 
while hearing the thrilling story, told in such 
simple language that they can readily under- 
' stand it all. Parents and teachers udll also 
be greatly interested in this book from an 
educational point of view. 

“The tale is well told and the children will delight in it.” — Chicago Post, 

** Told so simply and clearly that young readers cannot fail to be entertained 
•nd instructed.” — Congregationalist^ Boston, 


For sale by all booksellers or sent postpaid on receipt of price 
by the publishers, 

LOTHROP. LEB & SHEPARD CO.. BOSTON 




CHILDRtiN OF OTHER LANDS SERIES 


When 1 Was a Boy in Japan 

By Sakae Shioya Illustrated from photographs 
i2mo Cloth $.75 



T he author was born fifty miles from 
Tokio, and at the age of twelve began 
the study of English at a Methodist school. 
Later he studied Natural Science in the First 
Imperial College at Tokio, after which he 
taught English and Mathematics. He came 
to America in 1901, received the degree of 
Master of Arts at the University of Chicago, 
and took a two years’ post-graduate course at 
Yale before returning to Japan. No one 
could be better qualified to introduce the 
Japanese to those in America, and he has 
done it in a way that will delight both 
children and parents. 


When 1 Was a Qirl !n Italy 


By Marietta Ambrosi i2mo Cloth Illustrated $.75 

T he author, Marietta Ambrosi, was born in Tyrol, having an American- 
born mother of Italian descent, and a Veronese father. Her entire 
girlhood was spent in Brescia and other cities of Northern Italy, and in 
early womanhood she came with her family to America. Her story gives 
a most graphic account of the industries, social customs, dress, pleasures, 
and religious observances of the Italian common people. 


When 1 Was a Boy in China 

By Yan Phou Lee i2mo Cloth Illustrated from 
photographs $.75 

N ew YORK INDEPENDENT says: “Yan Phou Lee was one of 
the young men sent to this country to be educated here, rind finally 
tnatriculated at Yale, where he graduated with honor. ‘When I was a 
Boy in China’ embodies his recollections of his native country. It is 
certainly attractive, with more room for nature to operate and play in 
freely than is generally attributed to Chinese life.” 


For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt 
of price by the publishers 

LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO., BOSTON 


Fifty Flower Friends 

With Familiar Faces 

By BDlTti DUNHAM 

A FIELD BOOK FOR BOYS AND GIRLS 

With twelve full-page colored plates, decorations and fifty tesct 
illustrations from nature by W. I, BEECROFT $1.50 


^HILDREN cannot too soon begin to 
know the wild flowers, and here they 
are told in a charming way where and when 
to look for each of fifty widely distributed 
common flowering plants; also how they get 
their names, and how to know them from the 
remarkably accurate drawings of Mr. Beecroft, 
a skilled botanist and superior artist. Each 
of the fifty flowers has a page of accurate 
botanical description in addition to its story. 
Thus the book is suited for varying ages. 



“The greatest praise can be bestowed upon and every mother and father should 
have one and by it better educate their children in nature, which will prove not 
only an enjoyable study, but an instructive one.** — Providence News^ 


** Good brief descriptions, good clear pictures, portraits almost, of each flower 
friend, a beautiful cover, convenient arrangement, and fine large print, make a 
perfect book to own, or to give to any one, especially a child,**— 

Leader* 


“ If the children do not learn something new about flowers this summer it may 
be because their unkind parents have not bought them Miss Edith Dxmham’s 
•Fifty Flower Friends.* **—iV3?w York Times* 


•* The boy or girl into whose hands this book is placed can hardly fall to acquire 
a real and lasting interest in our every-day wild flowers,**— The Dial* 


** It has no rival in bookt of its kind, either in text or illustration.** — Boston 
Budget* 


Por salt by mSt bookseiUn ot aent poatpaid oo ncatpi 0^ 
price by the publiabera 

lOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO.. BOSTON 



THE FROLICSOME FOUR 

By EDITH L. and ARIADNE GILBERT 


Illustrated by JOSEPHINE BRUCE Large IZmo Price $1.00 


The itory of two brothers and two 
sisters who are as noble in character as 
they are enthusiastic in play. The au- 
thors have drawn wholesome child-life 
with remarkable effect, and this book 
will win a conspicuous place for that 
^ reason. Everyone will be interested 
in the fine scholarship of Larry, the 
jolly spirits of Gwen, and the tender- 
ness of little Polly. And when finally 
Billy, well-meaning and awkward Billy, actually wins a prize 
in a most unexpected way, the charm of the story is complete. 
Miss Bruce has well caught the spirit of the story in her 
illustrations, and with its merry-looking cover, large, clear 
print, good paper and broad margins, this is exactly the book 
to choose for young boys and girls. 

“ The authors have woven a clever juvenile tale, portraying child-life with that 
truth that will appeal to the young reader.” — Providence News. 

The story is happily told, and presents a pretty picture of vigorous and 
wholesome American child-life.” — Indianapolis Sentinel. 

“ The story is a charming one, and the whole ‘ get up ^ of the book suits the 
contents.” — Episcopal Recorder^ Philadelphia. 

“ The adventures of two brothers and two sisters are happily told. They are 
funny, pathetic, and always lead the child reader or hearer to think of the real 
happiness of the dutiful and unselfish traits of character.” — New York Observer, 

“ The book is natural and wholesome, and its attractive appearance in pic- 
tures and type will make it a favorite with children.” — Portland Express, 


For sale by aU bookseller Sy or sent postpaid on receipt o/ Price by the publishers. 



Lothrop, Lee & Shepard Co., Boston 


UN 30 19ft 






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